


Postcards

by Byrnadele



Category: Blake Shelton (Musician), The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comedy, F/M, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 46,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23003599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byrnadele/pseuds/Byrnadele
Summary: "Blake wrote "Keep Coming Back" on a napkin at the Music Row Cafe. I was singing at an open mic night, and he came in and he said he was inspired to write it just by looking at me. Think I fell in love with him in all of ten minutes."
Relationships: Blake Shelton/Gwen Stefani
Comments: 43
Kudos: 77





	1. Postcard from Santa Fe

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> This is a little story that wouldn't leave me alone. I got inspired, tried to put it down on paper, failed multiple times, felt discouraged, but kept coming back to it. I'm glad I did because it got me back into writing, got me back to finishing and editing old stories.
> 
> Now, much of this story takes place in Nashville. Please send some prayers over to the good people affected by the tornadoes. It's devastating. 
> 
> I hope you're intrigued by this one.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> ➣➣➣

**Albuquerque, New Mexico** __

Gwen Stefani didn’t know what possessed her daughters to have adjoining weddings.

Sure, they were twins. They did everything together when they were kids. They sang, travelled, even dated the same kind of boys. But they were twenty-one now. They were adults, with their own lives, their own jobs, their own fiancés, thank God, and their own ideas on how to live their lives. They didn’t need to get married in the same place, at the same time, on the same day. But maybe that’s what they were going for. One last thing to do together now that they were their own people. They’d always be sisters, always be twins, but embarking on this new chapter in their lives, marriage and family, it had to be uniquely them. So why not go into it together this one last time, knowing they’d always support one another through it all, they just wouldn’t be side by side for every waking moment of it. 

Fine. 

Gwen could deal with that line of reasoning. It was even sweet when she thought of it as such, but Gwen could not get down with the ceremony and the reception all happening in New Mexico. For miles and miles as she looked out the plane window, all Gwen could see was brown, and tan, and more awful brown. And the freakin’ heat. And those damn ubiquitous yellow chamisa bushes that assailed her sinuses the moment she left the confines of the Albuquerque airport.

“Hey, at least its not fucking Texas.” Jonathan Aprils, Gwen’s manager, joked as he slipped on his Dior sunglasses to cover his bright teal blue eyes. The stale wind blew his silky brown tresses over his face. The hair on top of his head was longer than the rest, and it gave him a baby faced look, deaging his forty years by ten.

“I’d murder your kids if they had their weddings in Texas.” Hayden Aprils, Jonathan’s wife and one of Gwen’s longtime friends, commented candidly as she stuck her hand in the air like she was hailing a cab. The black Range Rover the singer was flagging down saw them and pulled up beside the curb. A gorgeous looking couple got out to help them with the luggage, greeting the three of them with hugs and kisses.

“Mexico weddings are officially hot as hell.” Declan Clay grinned as he shoved the last of their suitcases in the back of the trunk. 

Gwen smiled as she took in Declan’s appearance. He looked handsome in his newly trimmed haircut, the front just a little long so that the brown strands curled alongside his forehead in the blistering heat. His lemon yellow button-down complimented his now olive-tanned skin and lime green eyes. 

“But the resort has the best a/c and the pool is gorgeous.” Connie, his wife, added.

Connie Clay, once Shelton when she was married to Blake, aged liked the finest wine, with her impossibly long, apple and honey colored hair, and gorgeous mossy hazel eyes. The older woman pulled her in for a hug and Gwen smelled cherry blossoms and red roses.

“Tell me there’s no sand there for at least ten miles. I’m tired of getting the shit stuck in my sandals.” Hayden complained, looking down at her dusty footwear, her long platinum hair falling all around her as she did. 

“I got new boots for the wedding and I wasn’t too sure about it but they’ll clean your stuff up real nice down there at the hotel.” Declan pointed out, eyeing his own brand-new-steel-toed, midnight blue cowboy boots.

“Well, let’s get to it. I’m ready to sit out by the pool.” Jonathan clapped his hands, and ever the gentleman, held open the door for Gwen and Hayden as they settled in the back seats.

“It’s too fucking hot,” Hayden whined not even ten minutes into their forty-five minute drive up to Santa Fe. She fanned herself with a couple of ripped up pages from a magazine that was left on the plane.

“You whining about it, babe, isn’t gonna make it any cooler.” Jonathan reminded her. 

“It’s supposed to be even hotter tomorrow.” Declan informed the car as he turned up the air conditioner. 

“Hey, how’s Layla been?” Gwen asked the front seat couple about her youngest daughter.

Connie smiled at her through the rear view mirror. “The kids have been on their best behavior. I think Blake scared them into being angels ‘cause I haven’t heard one complaint from the staff since we got here yesterday.”

“I was adamant about letting Cadence come up early since she’s the youngest. I know they probably let her drink like crazy.” Jonathan said, shaking his head.

“Probably. What you don’t see can’t blind you.” Hayden replied, pouring droplets of water on top of her head from the canteen Declan and Connie brought.

“You’re such a goofball.” Gwen told the blonde. 

Hayden smirked at her. “How’s the decorating coming along? I heard the girls still can’t decide on the flowers.” She asked. 

“Oh, it’s been a catfight.” Connie replied.

Declan laughed and sped up now that they were outside of the city limits. “Blake was seconds away from ripping his hair out when he had to cancel three orders of panicle hydrangeas, whatever the hell those are.” 

“God he must be feeling that deep in his pockets.” Jonathan joked. 

“Lennon did always have expensive taste.” Hayden said, eyes going to Gwen. 

The pop icon shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not my fault Marli turned out like her dad and Lennon the exact copy of me.” Gwen teased.

“You’re not kidding.” Jonathan murmured underneath his breath.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“That Lennon will pierce the heart of any man foolish enough to fall in love with her and then eat said heart for breakfast. Just like you.”

“That’s so not true,” Gwen protested over the car’s laughter. 

“Oh come on, G. You haven’t allowed a man to get close in  _ years _ . They last a few months and then they’re gone.” Hayden argued. 

“I’m surprised she’s even still with Luke.” Declan piped up, eyebrows raising in genuine surprise.

“You guys are so off base, right now.” Gwen shook her head, ignoring the stab of truth she felt from her friends’ words.

The singer withdrew from the conversation then as it shifted to wedding talk and then an amiable silence. Gwen chose to answer a few texts and emails before staring out the window for the rest of the drive, hating every sight of the flat, piñondotted landscape.

“That’s a postcard shot right there,” Jonathan said, pointing to the Sandias mountains in Albuquerque. “You have a postcard from here, Gwen? I can’t remember.”

Gwen winced slightly. “Not from here, no.” 

“Do you want one? There’s a shop just up ahead. I know you like to collect them.” Declan asked. 

“I haven’t bought one in a long time.” Gwen said, quietly.

“Been ages since you sent one either.” Hayden reminded her.

_ There’s no one to send them to that would appreciate them like I do. _

“I’m okay, really. I rather we keep going. It’s a long drive.”

They murmured their agreements and once again, the car lapsed into an easy silence. 

_ Do you want one? _

Declan’s question hung in the air for a moment and then landed in the pit of her stomach. Gwen shifted in her seat, feeling different all of a sudden, like she was being teased by the past and her present was falling victim to its attention.

If she was being honest with herself, her daughters’ futures were suddenly dredging up her history like it was shoveled old mud. 

Her life for the past two years had consisted of work, music, cocktails, and Luke Hill, her boyfriend. Gwen was used to a routine. It took her a longtime to get somewhere where she was comfortable. Ever since Layla went off to college in Tennessee after graduation, and Marli and Lennon ended up moving to Nashville to work on their music careers, Gwen’s had to fend for herself. It was hard when the twins left her three years ago, and now all three of her girls were gone from California.

Somewhere deep down, she knew they’d never stay. They were too much like their daddy, driven musically, inspired by open country roads, and too wild to ever be trapped in L.A.'s suffocating box. Of course, Lennon Ray Shelton was more like Gwen than she gave her daughter credit for. Lennon loved the finer things in life, would rather wear heels than cowboy boots, and listened to mostly pop/reggae music. But she loved country music’s influence on her songwriting. She belonged in a market of music that told stories. Her voice was tailor-made to sing about heartbreak and love and late nights dancing in a field of sunflowers. She had a postcard talent, able to cross state lines and generations of country music lovers. And it just so happened to be that she did it all with her sister by her side. 

Marli Flynn Shelton was a cowgirl through and through. Her allegiance would never be with the ska world. She didn’t much care for pop or rap and the only thing that moved her other than country music was the world of rock and roll. Layla was much the same way, except she had an alternative streak in her bones that bled into her bloodstream, and eventually into her own music as she studied music education at Belmont.

Needless to say, her girls were doing well for themselves, and Gwen was happy for them. Just because it took the older singer a few months longer to see her own smile back on her face didn’t matter. But now being in New Mexico, having to spend the weekend anticipating the moment she would watch Blake, a man that broke her into a million pieces and put her back together again in just one night, with just one kiss, just one song, a man that gave her three little girls, a man that defined her past, plagued her present, and clouded her future, walk their two oldests down the aisle, Gwen was reminded of how fast her carefully lived routine of a life could be turned upside down.

It felt like a grey cloud had moved over her head, blocking any high desert sun that shined down on her from up above. What a snapshot of her life. 

_ Do you want one?  _

Gwen shook it off. Her life was everything her little Orange County heart could have hoped for. She had three, beautiful, healthy baby girls and a longstanding music career. She found love, and she was sure this time with Luke was gonna last. That girl from Anaheim prayed for a big house, a white picket fence, and a family to go with it. Sure, she wasn’t married, but she had been once. And that had to count towards the dream. That had to be part of the pictures of her past. 

_ You have a postcard from here, Gwen? No. But I don’t need one. The life I had before to send them back to no longer exists. A picture in my camera roll will do just fine from here on out. _

“We’re almost there,” Declan informed them, snapping Gwen out of her thoughts. “Hopefully the kids got the party goin’ at the pool. I could use a sangria.” 

“I can see them now. Lord forgive all of their sins.” Hayden said to the car ceiling.

Gwen laughed at her. 

“All I keep thinking about is Cadence and Colt. Ever since you let Luke bring him around the studio, Cadence has been talking about him nonstop.” Jonathan moaned. 

“They’re both fifteen and Luke is a good father. He raised Colt right. I’m sure he’s been nothing but respectful.” Gwen said, seriously. 

“They’re not the only ones crushing on each other. I heard Denver’s been eyeing Marli’s friend, Scarlett.” Connie said, grinning from ear to ear at the mention of her son’s little crush.

“What about Layla and Oliver?” Declan asked, a mischievous glint in his beautiful teal eyes.

“What about Layla and Oliver?” Gwen asked, frowning. Oliver was Lennon’s fiance. They were going to be married in less than 72 hours. Nothing should be ‘going on’. 

“You don’t see the way Layla looks at him like a lost little puppy thirsting for some water and Oliver is a tall glass of it?” Hayden asked, fanning herself once again with the ripped up magazine pages. “I saw it when they were visiting last month.” 

“What are you talking about? Layla does not do that.” Gwen protested, easily. 

“And Oliver can’t help but stare at her when they’re in the same room together. Looks like sexual tension.” Jonathan said, teasing. 

“Sounds like messy pre-wedding drama if you ask me.” Hayden commented.

“Feels like a bad case of the wrong bride.” Declan chimed in.

“Will you three cut it out? Oliver loves Lennon. They’re getting married on Saturday and that’s all there is to it.” Connie said, watching the uneasy look on Gwen’s face through the mirror.

“I’m just sayin’ that I would be pretty pissed if my sister stole my man. Especially if she was younger than me. Oliver’s already seven years older than Lennon. Maybe he likes jailbait.” Hayden shrugged. 

“That’s ridiculous, and not true.” Gwen said, feeling her tongue go dry. 

“Can we talk about something else?” Connie interjected. 

“Yeah, what’s this I hear about Blake bringing Miranda Lambert as his date to the wedding?” Jonathan asked, completely oblivious to Gwen’s grey cloud, growing heavier by the second.

“I know. I’m not the biggest fan of it, either.” Declan said, shaking his head. “But she insisted.”

“I actually like her. She’s sweet.” Connie complimented the five time CMA Female Vocalist of the year. “It’s been two years since the divorce. I’m glad he’s dating for real again.” 

“Well she looks like a bitch to me. You can tell by the way she smiles. Plus her forehead is the size of Texas and I don’t trust any woman with that much space between her hairline and her eyes.” Hayden stated, with no room for argument.

It was awful of Gwen to laugh, so she didn’t. She pretended like Jonathan’s rancorous chuckle was her own and told herself to be satisfied with the small smirk playing at her lips, instead. It’s not like she had anything against the woman. It was just always a little weird to hear about Blake and someone else. Connie had been the only one that didn’t make Gwen uncomfortable, and a lot of that had to do with the woman herself. 

She remembered when the news broke about Blake and Connie expecting their first child together. It would be the fourth for Blake, and his first and only son. It would be Connie’s second son, the first being Oliver, the very man that stole Lennon’s heart ever since she met the boy as a kid. Some would think it was inappropriate for her little girl to fall in love with her stepbrother, and vice versa, but they never lived under the same roof, and only started having real feelings for each other when Lennon was a senior in highschool. Oliver being older always helped, considering he was away studying at college or moving into his own place in Nashville during the couple’s budding relationship. 

It was just a little after Gwen started her own solo career, and she and Blake just signed their divorce papers, when Denver Richie Shelton was conceived. It hurt to think that he moved on so quickly, and even more when she heard of the expecting couple’s upcoming nuptials. But she’d been invited to the wedding, despite the way she and Blake left things between them. The girls had been in the wedding party, and Gwen flew them out to Oklahoma for the ceremony. 

Meeting Connie James for the first time was like touching a real-life rainbow. She was completely apologetic to Gwen in the beginning, for reasons Gwen didn’t understand at first until she was informed about the true nature of her and Blake’s relationship. 

They’d slept together once, a one night stand while out on the road on Blake’s tour, and she’d gotten pregnant. They were good friends, they liked each other, certainly weren’t in love, but they respected one another, and the baby they’d made together. Blake wanted to make an honest woman out of Connie, a woman he confided in after his and Gwen’s divorce, a woman he had come to love as a friend and human being, just as he did with Gwen all those years ago after Kaynette. 

The singer understood as much as she could at the time, and even more so as the years dragged on and Blake and Connie continued with their union. Ultimately, what broke them up in the end, was that they were never really in it because of the love, and Connie wanted that love the poems and songs talked about. Just like Gwen did. The big house, the white picket fence, the kids, and the husband. Blake could give her a glass half empty, not half full. There was a difference, and so they went their separate ways. 

But through those fourteen years of marriage, Connie had never once tried to be a mother to Gwen’s daughters. She always kept the boundaries clear, and made sure that Gwen was apart of every decision in the girls’ lives whenever they were with their father in Oklahoma or Nashville. 

And over the years, Gwen and Connie became friends. Maybe deep down, Gwen knew that Connie didn’t pose any real threat when it came to Blake. Even despite their long marriage of convenience, one filled with great memories, first times, and good friendship, there was no passion. Connie even said it herself, once. She wanted a man to ache for her when she was gone, to fall apart when she was there, to burn with longing when words failed, to die in peace alongside when all was said and done. She and Blake just didn’t have that type of relationship.

Looking at Connie now, holding hands with Declan, a man that valued both Connie and Blake as friends, Gwen saw that the woman who once slept next to a man Gwen thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with, was happy and content now, and had gotten everything she ever wished for.

Gwen wondered if Blake could say the same for himself with Miranda Lambert. The girl was young, younger than Gwen’s ex-husband, and blonde, and perfect, and talented. Maybe she was Blake’s match. Maybe Miranda fit him better than Gwen ever could.

Maybe Luke was her perfect match. He was certainly handsome, smart, talented in his own ways, and driven in the best ones. 

Maybe everyone and everything turned out the way they were supposed to. Maybe this was exactly where she was supposed to be.

_ Do you have a postcard from here, Gwen? _

Gwen shivered, no longer feeling the desert heat. “God, help me.” 

“What Gwen?” Jonathan asked. 

She shook her head. “Nothing.” 

The singer looked out the window as they sat at a stoplight at the edge of downtown. The resort was a couple of miles in the distance, and Gwen closed her eyes, resting her mind for the next fifteen minutes. 

➣➣➣  __ __

“You wanna grab a drink with us in the lounge?” Declan asked the three of them as Connie wrapped herself around her husband, gently pulling him in the direction of said lounge.

“Oh my God. I have wanted to be in that pool since yesterday. We’re goin’ up to our room and changin’.” Hayden bellowed, dragging an equally hot and sweaty Jonathan. 

“What about you, Gwen?” 

“I think I’m just gonna go get settled. Maybe take a shower and get some of this sweat off.” 

Declan laughed as Connie pulled him more forcefully. “Sounds lovely. We’ll catch you later.” 

“Bye, Gwen!” Connie said in a beautiful sing-song voice as the couple disappeared down the resort hall. Gwen shook her head, smiling. 

Once in her room, Gwen hung up her clothes in the closet, and took a rather long lukewarm shower. After getting out and brushing her hair, Gwen contemplated calling Luke. He was in meetings all day and would be all Friday until the weekend. He managed to schedule a flight out to New Mexico for the wedding on Saturday but would be right back in New York come Sunday evening.

Luke was CEO of Capitol Records and had a very important quarterly A&R goal to achieve before the summer came to a close. Gwen couldn’t compete with his work, not when what he did was so important, getting artists in the door and saddling them up with amazing record deals. Not to mention the talent he had to nurture and invest time and money in. It was the business side of the music industry, a side that Gwen could appreciate, even if she didn’t quite understand it all that well like Luke.

Calling him now would be a mistake. He was probably in an important meeting, one that didn’t need interrupting just because Gwen was suddenly bored, maybe even a little lost.

“That Sangria sounds better and better,” she voiced to the silent room. 

Gwen stripped her robe and dressed into her bikini. The bottoms were black, with a dark cover skirt with tiny holes to cover them. The bikini top was white and tied in the middle of her chest. She draped a long, tan, cashmere wrap around her shoulders and shoved her perfectly manicured feet into a pair of brown flip flops. She threw her hair up into a bun and allowed the few hairs that escaped to hang down around her face as she made her way to the swanky Tequilana Lounge.

Gwen tried to look around for Connie and Declan but saw that the lounge lead out to the pool, and figured they took their drinks and joined Jonathan and Hayden for some sun and cool water. The singer was just starting in on her white sangria, trying not to think about Luke, or the unanswered text messages from all three of her daughters, when she noticed a familiar stranger across the way down the bar.

Blake Shelton.

Gwen’s whole body tensed up, in that way that told her she’s missed someone she hasn’t seen in forever, in that way that said her body was once used to being around that person everyday and when she suddenly wasn’t, it’d been a shock to her system in the worst way.

And Gwen wanted to keep staring, almost did, until he caught her eye, until he was slowly getting up and heading her way, until she felt his eyes on her back, until she wondered if Blake Shelton was behind her to the right, or behind her to the left.

He saved her from having to find out when she felt a large hand wrap around her elbow gently, turning her slowly around to face the country singer. 

Gwen had long since learned that there are some people that you’ll meet in the industry that set every nerve you have on fire just by looking at the very sight of them. They could be your heroes, or your rivals, or the people that fuel your envy. But ever since meeting and falling in love with Blake Shelton all those years ago, Gwen was very much aware that the abruptness of warmth she felt in every vein and line of her blood was not in fact a raging fire, but one much smaller, a spark really, the beginnings of kindling and something that was vaguely familiar to potential. His presence had always been illustrious and passionate and life changing.

Simply put, Blake Shelton caught her unawares, then and now, like a bee sting, painful and yet an exhilarating rush at the same time. Gwen watched the way the skin in the corners of his eyes crinkled handsomely, the way the dimples in his cheeks deepened as they were stretched around an endearing smile. He stretched his arm around her shoulder to hug her, but he was so long, so tall, that Gwen had to meet him halfway on her tippy toes as they embraced.

“Hey, pretty girl.” It was all he had to say to her, his accent thick, that same country twang she hadn’t heard in so long, for that attraction to flare up again.

“Hi, cowboy.” The singer managed to say, voice cracking under the pressure of his charisma, which was always evident in the way he carried himself, in the way he looked at her. She had to strain her neck to meet his stare when they pulled away, and that stirred something lower inside of her. 

His palm was calloused where it held her arm again, a complete contrast to her own smooth skin. She couldn’t help but feel the burn of its presence in the tiny hairs that littered her skin once he finally pulled away.

Gwen tucked a canary gold strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose from her messy bun. Her bronze eyes shined with pleasure as she caught the way his eyes travelled the length of her. It wasn’t much, a discreet look down and then in the opposite direction, but it left her fuzzy. She hoped she looked nice to him, and wondered why she even cared in the first place. He always looked handsome to her, even when she hated him, and she wanted to laugh at the thought because Blake was only ever dressed in something less than flattering; case in point, the dark blue t-shirt, and slate grey swimming trunks he was in now.

Gwen thought immediately back to those years where a ring was on her hand, where a shirt like this was once oversized and non-flattering. But now, it was fitted, clinging tightly to his skin, showing how in shape he must be. Blake Shelton would never have a toned stomach, and you would never see defined abs poking out of the shirts he wore. But Blake’s long and wide torso was definitely flatter than she remembered. He carried a healthy weight that made his face slimmer, and his body thinner.

His hair used to be a milk chocolate brown, but was now a pile of soft, silver and midnight blue curls carefully styled on top of his head. The very definition of salt and pepper. His facial hair was much the same way, except for the light splattering of fair auburn throughout. His blue eyes were just as bright as any glacier yet so very warm rested upon her face.

“You look good.” Gwen said, not being able to stop herself. It was so easy to hate him from afar, but up close, he was the man she wrote countless love songs about, the man she had three daughters with. 

“No bald spots, yet.” He teased. “You haven’t aged a bit. Beautiful as ever.” 

Gwen’s skin grew warm. “Thank you.”

“You’re always welcome.” The country singer replied, eyes still on her. Gwen fought down the heat rising to the outer layers of her skin.

“So have our girls killed each other, yet? I tried texting them when I got here.” Gwen asked, staring at his crystal blue eyes, the same as Layla’s. She wanted their first interaction in months to not be as awkward as she was feeling, and even though Blake knew she was seeing someone else and had been for over a year, it somehow felt alright to be standing there with him, acting as if they both didn’t have a past as long as their careers. 

“Oh, yeah, they’re probably trashing the golf course as we speak. Oliver wanted to play a game with Denver and so all the kids just tagged along. Probably wanted to get one last drunken stupor in before all their parents arrived.” Blake chuckled. 

Gwen smiled. “Sounds like them.” 

“Yeah.” Blake scratched the back of his head, a weird silence falling over them.

“Can you believe it?” He asked after several painful moments. 

“What’s that?” Gwen asked softly. 

“They were just singing Taylor Swift songs in their bedrooms a couple of years ago. Drivin’ me crazy singin’ about kisses behind bleachers with boys. Now they’re getting married to men.” 

“You feel like a part of your heart is getting kidnapped, right?” Gwen asked, seeing the flash of fear in her ex-husband’s eyes. It’s how she knew he was a great father, holding back the pain he felt in losing his little girls to lesser men than him. Because there were few men who compared to Blake, even despite every horrible thing he ever said or did to her. 

The country singer shrugged, a little uncomfortably. “Yeah…the price we pay for makin’ daughters, I guess.”

“The best thing we ever did together.” Gwen said the words before she could take them back. 

Blake nodded, swallowing harshly. “That and the music.” 

They stared at each other for a minute longer, the air crackling around them before Blake cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “I, uh, should get back.” He said, pointing behind him to the man he was sitting with. Gwen recognized Blake’s manager, Brandon, and the man’s wife, Kelly. “I’ll see you around?” Blake inquired, feet inches away from her now.

“Santa Fe? I sure hope so.” She answered teasingly, not knowing if she would really mean that after he left. As much as she knew how big this resort was, it wasn’t big enough to keep her and Blake apart, not when they both had responsibilities and roles to play this weekend. However, Gwen expected to avoid him as much as possible.

His handsome smirk was the last thing she saw on Blake before she disappeared from the lounge, setting her sights on the pool.

Maybe she’d have better luck there.

➣➣➣ 

“I couldn’t find the packet of cherry swishers so I just grabbed the apple ones instead.”

“Layla, shut up.” Lennon shushed her younger sister and settled prettily beside her fiance, Oliver, once more on the green of the golf course. She smirked at the man she’d be marrying in less than 72 hours. “Sit down. Aunt Hayden’s telling us about the first time Mom met Dad.” She told her in the sweetest, most angelic, and softest voice that caressed Layla’s heart feather-like, just like her sister’s beauty. 

Lennon’s blonde hair was a thousand shades of gold that painted a different intensity each moment in the summer air. Her soft curls were like the color of cream in this lighting, but up close, a chorus of fair streaking highlights would have blinded anyone. She looked like Gwen, down to those gorgeous, toffee nut eyes, and smooth, pale hands that were now enshrouded in billows of silk, compliments of her rehearsal dress she insisted on wearing because it was flowy and cool in the desert air. Layla thought she looked ridiculous on a golf course, even more so next to Oliver, but Layla said none of that as she inserted herself into the large group on the faux grass by the eighteenth hole.

“So you guys were catching a bite to eat at Music Row,” Oliver asserted, without anger or even annoyance at his soon to be sister-in-law’s interruptance. In fact, he winked at her handsomely when Layla sighed at being silenced by her sister in a less than kind way. Layla blushed and looked away. 

“Right.” Hayden said, drinking the last of her wine cooler. The older woman snuck away from her husband and friends by the pool when she caught wind of the kids goofing around on the golf course. She had a sixth sense when it came to smoking weed, and somehow knew the kids were doing just that as they carted around and took shit shots at the tees. She tried to make it seem like she was just there to make sure Cadence wasn’t smoking but they all knew better than that. “We’d just gotten to our seats and ordered some drinks when your dad finished his set.” Hayden continued. 

“You didn’t hear any of it,” Lennon replied knowingly, allowing her fingertips to venture and skate--more affectionate than suggestive--down the back of Oliver’s neck from the hairline to the edge of his handsome collar. Oliver’s eyes closed for as long as it took Lennon to trace the smooth skin. Layla’s eyes narrowed. 

“I mean it was  _ right  _ as he was finishing up. I think we heard the last chords of a song but that was it.” 

“Who noticed who first?” Marli asked, flipping her impossibly long, caramel-brown hair over her shoulder. 

“I’d put money on your dad.” Oliver said softly, eyes going to Layla discreetly. There was a challenge in his sky-green eyes, and an impressive glint in Layla’s.

“Right you are, otter face. Gwen was oblivious until Sadie pointed him out. He was sitting in the corner by himself if you can believe it. And when they locked eyes, finally...let’s just say you’re looking at what became of that look…”

_ Nashville, Tennessee _

“Baby blue eyes, ten o’clock, staring Gwen down like a piece of meat.” 

Gwen looked at Sadie sharply, before her gaze travelled over to the man with the incredibly silver moon-like eyes. He was sitting in the corner, long legs stretched out before him, pen in one hand, glass of something clear in the other. 

When their eyes met for the first time, he looked away, down, over to the box of mints resting an inch or two away from the napkin he’d been writing on. He popped one into his mouth quickly with one hand and chewed lazily, sipping from his glass occasionally, still messing with the pen and napkin. 

The man winced briefly as he wrote but took another swig of his drink. It was only when the waiter approached their table again to collect their orders that his eyes looked her way, again. Gwen was too engrossed with the interior surrounding her to notice, not when all the red and orange colors were seeping into the walls and floors giving them life like a heartbeat. The cafe/bar was big enough to house a couple of couches and chairs and tables, and Gwen noted the way all the cushions were vibrant, the fabric throws incredibly soft, and the flowing curtains hanging warmly off the windows the color of peach swirling with the colors of the midday sun. The walls were draped in calico quilts, and the drink of the day was muscadine wine. There were candles lit on every table, heightening the serene mood of the place. 

The stranger had just made it in her peripheral vision as she talked with Sadie and Hayden about their last day in Nashville before she’d have to return home. 

Unbeknownst to her, the blue-eyed stranger’s eyes flew about the room but never landed on one thing in particular until the server came back with the women’s drinks and Gwen reached for a glass full of gold champagne.

She had purposely decided not to catch the stranger’s eye but as if sensing someone was staring at her, knowing how it burned with a strong pull, she found his gaze, once more. It was brief. He looked away after a moment, maybe not wanting to be caught, maybe because it was impolite. She couldn’t tell what type of guy he was. 

He took a swig of his clear beverage again and focused on his napkin. It was so humid outside, therefore incredibly warm inside the cafe. Gwen had already felt the beginnings of a layer of sweat building on her forehead and at the edges of her hairline. 

He glanced over at her, taking another sip. If she was bold, even more accustomed to a man’s attention, she would have said that everytime he took a drink from his glass, he was imagining tasting her. But she wasn’t bold, and would never be familiar with a man’s interest in her person, so Gwen assumed he was just thirsty.  _ And like an idiot, I’m blushing. _

“You should go say hi.” Sadie encouraged her, bringing Gwen out of this little bubble they put themselves in. 

The nineteen year old shook her head. “You’re crazy.” 

“And he’s super hot.” Hayden added. “Look, you’re leaving tomorrow night. Why not do something crazy before you go? It’s not like you’ll ever see him again.” 

Gwen bit her lip slightly and chanced a look back at the stranger. He was writing something down.

“I don’t even know what I would say.”

“Start with hello and then let him do the rest. You’re thinking too much into it.” Sadie told her.  __

Gwen sighed, feeling the pressure of her friends to not be that Gwen that left Anaheim. This trip was supposed to be about firsts. First live country concert. First time getting to drink underage without being carded or thrown out of somewhere. First time in Tennessee, let alone Nashville. First time away from her family. This would definitely be the first time she’d ever go up and talk to a man she didn’t know anything about. At least with Tony it had been in highschool, and she knew him through her brother, Eric.

“Gwen, if you don’t go, I will.” Hayden said, checking the stranger out for herself. 

“Okay, okay. I’m going.” Gwen said, but couldn’t make her legs follow her words. 

The man’s eyes suddenly went to her right in that moment, and something about the open expression on his face, the sparkle in his blue irises, the way his eyes roamed down her frame until they landed on her yellow pumps, had her up and ready to face him. She watched as his attention filtered up her body as she approached in her cotton red sundress. It wasn’t her normal attire. In fact, she’d borrowed it from Sadie just to go out for the evening. 

Once the man’s eyes landed on her face again, Gwen smiled at him until she saw the lingering evidence of some recent injuries on his face. There was a yellowing bruise under his left eye. The orb was swollen and pink, the white, red and fleshy. There was a prominent scratch above his eyebrow and several stitches in it to hold the skin together. His battered face looked strangely familiar. 

She stopped next to the chair across from him, eyes immediately looking down to the napkin littered with the tiniest, messiest, handwriting she’d ever seen. He took his eyes off of her long enough to stare down at the cloth, too. 

Gwen flicked the length of her hair over one shoulder. The man’s leg suddenly disappeared underneath the table and the next thing she knew was the chair next to her being pushed out, creating enough space to allow her to slip between it and the table. He was inviting her to sit down, and she’d be lying if she said the way he just did it didn’t cause goosebumps to rise on every inch of her skin. 

She grinned and took a seat. Glancing up at him, because even sitting down he had a few inches on her, Gwen noticed the tilt of his chin, and how familiar it was, achingly so. 

“You look like someone I might know.” She mused, instinctively knowing that he wouldn’t be the one to say something first.

He capped his pen and looked over at her. “You like country music?” 

She studied him intensely for a moment before recognition dawned on her. “You’re the Austin guy.” 

He gave her an appraising look for knowing his song. “Didn’t think anyone would recognize me without the mullet.” 

She laughed. “I don’t think anyone can recognize you with all that.” She pointed out, gesturing to his facial injuries. 

“Yeah, well. I guess that’s a good thing. My manager doesn’t think so but it has its perks. No crazy fans comin’ out the woodwork.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure. My friends over there are obsessed with that song. They have a poster of you in their apartment. They’re big fans.” 

“You too?” 

She shrugged. “Maybe.” 

“Most likely.” He jested.

She smiled on the inside. 

“I’m Gwen Stefani.” She offered him a soft hand, her bright yellow nails in contrast to his bruised cuticles. 

“Blake Shelton.” He shook her hand, and Gwen could feel the raised flesh touching her own. The knuckles were tumid. Her eyes looked up to his own, moving back and forth from his, never blinking. It was one of those kinds of moments where you feel that spark catch and you realize male, or female, something great was about to press down on you.

“I was forced to come over here or Hayden would. Sorry to bother you. You looked busy.” She said, pointing to his napkin, and watching as he inhaled her words, tasting the air in the cafe along with them, salt and water mixing together. 

“You’re not botherin’ me.” He said. 

She noticed his accent all together at once. It was rich, deep, buried beneath a weight of overused vocal chords. He had a slight slur, it was slow on the tongue, his words carefully stretched through his teeth and around his mouth as he spoke. It was like he was drunk, but Gwen couldn’t tell for sure. It reminded her of Jimmy Ashford two doors down, a known functioning alcoholic. He and Blake both talked as if they had blood in their mouths all the time.  It wasn’t the only thing unique about him. His short, slightly tousled, dark brown hair, which was thick at its roots and lustrous at the ends, was the mark of a fresh new haircut, a fresh new start. Even his eyes, which were the color of rain water left on a sidewalk on the inside, a coat of icing sugar dust on the outside, powder grey flashes throughout like the ballet was dancing in the hues, told Gwen of all her future firsts. Blake’s face was strong and defined, his features molded from the freshly clean facial hair that littered the underside of his jaw and neck. The poster in Sadie and Hayden’s tiny living room showed a baby faced, longer haired, cowboy just starting out in the music industry. But before her sat a mature artist plotting to take over country radio. 

“Not yet anyways.” She responded, albeit a bit delayed--maybe a lot delayed. 

As he finished off his drink, setting it back down on the table in front of them so that he could stuff his hands in his pockets, and looked over to her, eyebrows raised, she realized that she was indeed invading his night, unprompted.

She was just about to excuse herself politely, feeling those nerves creep back up on her, when another woman tapped Blake on his shoulder. He turned around and the woman smiled. 

“Narvel just got here,” she said to him. 

The woman was wearing a gorgeous, pastel pink, slip dress. Her clutch was clenched tightly in her small hands. When the woman’s eyes strayed to her, a large smile bloomed on her face. 

“Hi. Kaynette Williams.” She offered her hand which Gwen took, feeling a little unsteady. Of course he had a girlfriend. He was handsome, on the verge of becoming a famous country artist, and she was just a girl from Anaheim, California. 

“Gwen Stefani.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

“You as well.” She replied, genuinely. 

They let go and Gwen looked back to a now standing Blake. He helped Gwen to her feet in a surprising move. “I’ll be there in a second, Kay.” He told the woman. 

Kaynette nodded and smiled beautifully at Gwen. “Nice to meet you, again.” 

Gwen nodded, murmuring her agreements. 

Blake crumbled the napkin in his hand, the cloth completely an afterthought to Gwen, until he unwrinkled the small cloth and slid the napkin over the table to her. Gwen hesitantly took it, opening the folds to reveal that messy scrawl of his. 

It read: 

_ Calico quilt and muscadine wine. Silver moon, candle lights. Pretty little girl, come here. I want to tell you what a woman--tell you what a woman wants to hear.  _

Gwen looked up at him, surprise evident in her eyes. “So...So, I guess I’ll see you around, then?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Can’t think of where though.” 

She shrugged. She only said it to be nice. He had a girlfriend, was on his way somewhere Gwen only dreamed about in her sleep, and she’d be back in California by tomorrow night. 

He stared at her for a minute more before finally cracking a smile. He chuckled underneath his breath and Gwen half expected the blood to come falling out of his mouth when he did. 

It didn’t.

**Santa Fe, New Mexico**

“How’s the resort?” 

Gwen smiled into the phone receiver. “It’s really nice. Expensive. I was down by the pool when you called.” 

“I’m still trying to picture you in a bikini in Santa Fe…” Luke trailed off. 

Gwen sighed. “I know. What were my girls thinking?” 

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns--” 

“Don’t start quoting  _ Casablanca _ .”

“Best movie line.” Luke argued. 

“It’s cheesy.” 

“You mean a classic.” 

Gwen shook her head. How she ended up with such a nerd she’ll never know. “Okay, Humphrey Bogart. I gotta get back to the pool. The kids should be finished up at the golf course by now.” 

“There’s a golf course there? Blake really didn’t waste any expense.” 

Gwen’s smile faltered slightly. “Anything for his girls.”

There was a pause and then, “Love you, Gwen. See you Saturday.” 

“See you Saturday.” 

It was half way down the hall and in the elevator when Gwen realized she didn’t say it back. 

_ I love you.  _

_ I love you. I sent a postcard. Did you get it? I’ll see you soon. I love you.  _

Gwen squeezed her eyes shut and fought the memory away.

Down by the pool, Gwen saw a flash of black curls and instantly picked up her pace to greet the group of misfits that she claimed three as her own.

Layla immediately pulled her in for a hug when she saw her mother. Gwen’s face was completely covered by her daughter’s dark waves. They smelled like sweet liquorice and even resembled the acquired-tasting candy. Her crystal blue eyes were bright, squinting only slightly against the burning sun.

“I missed you,” her youngest murmured.

“I missed you more. How’s Belmont?” 

Layla shrugged. “It’s okay. I visit Dad every weekend I can and stay with Lennon and Oliver whenever I have a gig at Music Row.”

“There’s a permanent assprint on our couch, Mom.” Lennon said, embracing her mother. 

“Be nice.” Gwen chided. 

“Layla’s ass is welcome anytime on our couch. Her shows are great. Aren’t they, babe?” Oliver asked his fiance as he ran a hand through his sweaty, wavy, chestnut brown hair. He kissed his future mother-in-law on the cheek. 

“Whatever you say, Ollie.” Lennon joked, pulling Layla closer to her side.

“I told her she’s welcome on our couch anytime but she insists on staying at Lennon’s.” Marli piped up, appearing before Gwen like a bright flash. 

Gwen hugged the twenty-one year old tightly, clutching at her beautiful, long strands. Her dimples were clear as day as Marli smiled at her mother. 

“How are you?” Gwen asked the bride-to-be.

“Really good, Mom. How are you?” 

Gwen smiled at Marli’s thoughtfulness. “I’m good, too. Where Keen?”

“He and Denver are just finishing up a couple more holes.” Marli lied.

Hayden snorted, but caught her giggles before they could really be heard. Gwen rolled her eyes. She had purposely ignored the smell of weed the moment she hugged Layla. They all reeked of it, Hayden included. 

“Hi Cadence.” Gwen greeted her god-daughter. 

“Hi, Aunt Gwen.” 

“Colt.” The singer nodded. 

The teenager acknowledged her silently. Colt wasn’t her biggest fan, but Gwen could understand why. He was a mama’s boy and Luke and him didn’t exactly have the perfect father and son relationship, not like Blake and Denver. 

_ And why am I comparing the two? _

There were a couple of the girls’ friends with them that had come out early, too. Gwen greeted Scarlett, William, Gunnar, Maisy, and Billie.

“Well, I’m feelin/ froggy. Who wants to play a round of chicken in the pool?” Hayden asked, already making her way over to the water. She knew they’d all follow her. 

Gwen was no exception and found herself sitting with Declan, Connie, Oliver, Layla, Denver, and Scarlett in one of the cabanas. They watched the rounds of chicken, and the various switching of teams, as they were served sangrias, mojitos, and margaritas.

Gwen could admit that she was relaxed. This was a real vacation, not those nights in whatever city Luke happened to have a meeting in, inviting her out for dinner and then cutting their evenings short when he got an important call. Everyone that made up her company had no hidden agenda here, had no important calls to take, no work to get done, no place they needed to be. They just wanted to enjoy her daughters and their love for the weekend. 

“So Gwen, when’s Luke coming up?” Oliver asked her, arm outstretched behind Layla on the cabana booth. They were all seated in a circle, with a wide opening for a waiter to set down drinks and food. Her daughter was clearly affected by her sister’s fiance’s proximity, and Gwen had to bite the inside of her cheek before responding. 

“Saturday morning.”

“My Dad hates the desert.” Colt said, appearing before their table soaking wet. He stole a couple of cheese cubes and crackers and went right back to the water. Gwen saw him sharing the snacks with Cadence.

Gwen wiped at the perspiration above her brow. “Colt’s right. Luke couldn’t even imagine me here right now. Was quoting  _ Casablanca  _ of all things.” 

“Let me guess, of all the gin joints--” Declan started before he was cut off by Layla and Scarlett’s groaning.

“Hey, that’s a classic!” 

“What is?”

Gwen jumped at the sound of Blake’s voice. He crept up from behind her and went straight over to Denver, wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulders, pulling him close. The sixteen year old looked up at him exasperated. 

“Uncle Declan is quoting  _ Casablanca _ .” 

“For what?” The country singer asked. 

“Hey, Luke was quoting it to Gwen first.” 

Blake looked over to her and Gwen looked down at her drink. She rubbed her thumb along the condensation on her glass and willed herself not to blush.

“Best last line of a movie.” Brandon interjected, pulling a couple of chairs for him and Kelly to sit with them. Blake remained standing, holding Denver gently.

“What was?” Declan asked. 

“ _ Casablanca.  _ ‘I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’ Best last line.” Brandon replied. 

“Take a shot.” Kelly urged her husband, moving the small glass over to him. 

“Why?” 

“I got an idea. Everyone think of their favorite last line of a movie and then take a shot. The person with the best one gets to order three for everyone else.” Kelly proposed, glee evident in her voice. 

The group liked the idea and took a moment to think of their choice. Gwen didn’t have to go too far or think too hard for hers but kept silent as Denver proposed that he go first.

“ _ Blade Runner _ , ‘It’s too bad she won’t live--but then again, who does?’ That’s iconic.” The youngest Shelton kid said, smiling handsomely as he reached for a shot.

Blake swiped the glass before he could get it to his lips. “Nice try, buddy.” 

Denver smacked his lips as the table chuckled. Gwen smiled at the teen, loving the way his dark, golden-brown hair swayed like silk in the subtle breeze. His eyes were that of his mother’s but his face was all Blake. 

“What about, ‘I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?’  _ Stand By Me,  _ one of the best movies ever made.” Declan raised his glass in the air and threw back his shot. 

“That’s a good one deeks.” Brandon complimented his friend. 

“You can’t beat, ‘Alright, Mr DeMille, I’m ready for my closeup.’ The one and only,  _ Sunset Boulevard. _ ” Scarlett cheered, wincing as her shot went down a little less smooth than the others.

“ _ Back to the Future,  _ ‘Roads? Where we’re going, we don’t need roads!’ Get ready to lose, losers.” Kelly exclaimed, sipping at her shot confidently. 

Gwen smirked. 

“Who’s left?” Declan asked. 

“Your wife hasn’t gone.” Oliver pointed out.

“Neither have you.” Connie retorted but gave her son an appraising look. “Okay, let me see… ‘Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it.’  _ Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. _ ”

“Nice babe.” Declan pecked her on the cheek after she downed her shot. 

“Layla, you’re up.” Denver urged his sister. 

“Don’t laugh but… ‘Forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown.’” Layla recited.

“ _ Chinatown  _ is no laughing matter. That movie is timeless.” Brandon told her. 

“Like you.” Blake told his daughter. 

Layla blushed and looked to Oliver, who was next by some sort of invisible agreement. 

“Let me see… _ Some Kind of Wonderful,  _ ‘You look good wearing my future.’” Oliver said, eyes briefly going to Leila before he downed his shot and hers, playfully. 

“Alright, that ones winning so far.” Declan announced. Connie and most of the table agreed.

“Dad you haven’t gone.” Layla pointed out. 

Blake’s eyes danced over to Gwen briefly before going back to the table. “I just saw this one but,” he cleared his throat. “‘Now, you’re looking for the secret. But you won’t find it because, of course, you’re not really lookin’. You don’t really want to work it out...you want to be fooled.’” Somewhere, somehow, their eyes met again as he spoke, his dancing, Gwen’s flashing. 

“That sounds familiar. What’s that from, Mr. Shelton.” Scarlett asked for the table. 

The right amount of tension between them managed to choke Blake and he cleared his throat before replying, “ _ The Prestige. _ ”

“Well none of these are postcard worthy.” Kelly complained. “Except for maybe Oliver’s.” 

Gwen’s body jolted at Kelly’s words. 

_ Do you have a postcard from here? Do you want one?  _

“Gwen? You got one?” 

“One what?”  _ No, I don’t have a damn postcard. _

“A movie line.” 

“Oh, um...yeah. Um, everyone knows  _ You’ve Got Mail. _ ” 

“I don’t. Is that an old movie?” Denver asked.

Declan shook his head. “Your mother and father have failed you, son.” 

Oliver laughed. “It’s okay, little brother. Tom Hanks says, ‘Don’t cry, Shopgirl. Don’t cry.’ And Meg Ryan says--”

“‘I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly.” Gwen said, quietly, eyes going to Blake, always him.

The table grew quiet, but all Gwen could focus on was the  _ ache.  _ The ache that almost killed her all those years ago, pressing inside of her like leaves under glass, dulling and then sharpening, and ever-present. It was easier in L.A. He was nowhere to be found in California. The traces of his laughter were gone from the air in her house, the smell of his shampoo vanished like it never was in her shower, the feel of his fingertips back on a guitar in Nashville, playing its strings instead of her own. But here she was…

_ I wanted it to be you. Postcard worthy. I won. Just had to lose him to get here. _

“Gwen, you get to pick the poison, girl.” Kelly told her, bubbly, happy. 

Looking around the table, seeing that they all were. Kelly and Brandon. Connie and Declan. Denver and Scarlett. Oliver and Layla. God, my poor girl is in love with her sister’s fiance. God, I’m falling back into old feelings with my ex-husband. It’s only been a couple of hours, here.

“Apple crown, I guess.” Gwen said, softly, downing her own shot. 

She didn’t even drink hard liquor.

The rounds made their way around the table shortly after the waiter brought them out and Gwen looked around her friends and family, with the exception of Denver, as they downed the clear liquid one by one.

All she saw was him. Of course she wanted it to be him. Ever since they made sweet sweet music together. Ever since they locked eyes in that bar. Ever since he sent her a postcard from Columbus, Ohio. Whatever her nightmares were, somehow, he was this dreamcatcher that knew exactly how to keep her from falling further into the abysse. Whatever her music was, somehow, he was this soulmate that knew exactly what to do with it. 

And all these years later, all she had was a grey cloud over her head, a spark in the pit of her stomach, a song written on a napkin, and a movie quote that wouldn’t win her anything but some stupid game.

_ And no postcards. _

_ Do you want one? _


	2. Postcard from Nashville

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> Welcome to the second chapter of Postcards. 
> 
> Please continue to send some prayers or even relief over to the good people affected by the tornadoes in Nashville. 
> 
> I hope you're intrigued by this one.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> ➣➣➣

**Santa Fe, New Mexico** __

Gwen Stefani was possessed of small, pale, long-fingered hands that moved like rippling water, like hawks circling on an upward draft of warm air in the sky. 

There was a mesmeric quality to the gestures, even the ordinary reaching and gripping and shifting of this and that from here to there; especially now, when she was in the middle of a moment with her family. She’d been so used to Luke or being alone that whenever she was in the company of her daughters, it was like a signal to herself that she was stepping from one life into another, a world where she was a doting mother, not just someone’s girlfriend, or someone’s ex-wife, just a mom. She could still be Gwen, the performer, the queen of ska, a legend in pop, but she was Lennon, and Marli, and Layla’s mother first. Even half-made-up, in a silk dressing robe with frayed cuffs and one now-bottomless pocket, courtesy of her youngest nephew, she was the woman Blake Shelton fell in love with all those years ago.

“How’d you sleep, Mom?” Marli asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

Gwen was seated down in the resort’s restaurant, having breakfast with Layla, Marli, and Keen. Her girls were a sight for sore eyes, both sleepy-faced and dressed in matching grey pajamas. Keen, Marli’s fiance, had a pair of blue jeans on and a yellow and blue flannel unbuttoned. His leafy-green eyes were wide and awake, and his sandy blonde hair was wet, styled back with brylcreem. 

“I slept okay. My mattress is a little too hard for my back but it’s only for a couple of nights.” Gwen replied as she buttered a piece of toast. “Lennon and Oliver still asleep?”

“Yeah, sure. We’ll go with that.” Keen said, winking handsomely at his soon to be mother-in-law. Layla blushed, but Gwen just shook her head amused. 

“So what’s the plan for today?” The pop singer asked.

“Well, Layla convinced Dad to let us host a bonfire after the rehearsal dinner. But I guess everyone is doing their own thing until then. Keen and I wanted to go mountain hiking today.” 

“That sounds hot.” Gwen said, smiling as her kids laughed at her.

“There’s an old bar called Red Rim down on 96’ that Dad wants to check out. They say it was Johnny Cash’s favorite bar in America. He even played there a couple of times.” Layla added, grinning at the prospect of tagging along. “You should come with, Mom.”

Gwen’s smile faltered. “Oh, I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be nice to spend some time with your dad alone?” 

“He already invited a whole bunch of people...Declan, Aunt Hayden and Uncle Jonathan. Even Oliver and Lennon. I’m sure Scarlett and Gunnar will want to come, too. Denver if Scarlett’s coming.” 

Keen and Marli chuckled. 

“You should go, Mom. Layla was googling all about it yesterday and saw that they even sell their own postcards with a shot of the front of the bar on ‘em. You know if you want one.”

Gwen’s skin crawled.

_ If you want one. _

_ Do you want one? _

“Mom, you okay?” Layla asked. 

Gwen’s mask fell into place, once again. She nodded. “Yeah. Um...just let me see how I’m feeling later. I guess I could come out with you guys for a little bit.” 

“Awesome.” Her youngest responded. 

“So, Gwen. I’ve been, uh, wondering about something for tonight’s dress rehearsal…” Keen started, sending a pointed look over to Marli. Her middle daughter grasped her fiance’s hand and squeezed supportively. 

“Okay?” Gwen urged, wondering what could be so frightening or daunting for him to ask of her.

“Well, actually, me and Oliver wanted to sing at the reception...to Marli and Lennon, of course. We were contemplating writing our own songs for the girls but we were going through some of Blake’s old stuff. Just demos that were never officially cut or used on an album. We, uh, we found two songs for us both that we really like…” 

“And you’re wondering if I’d be okay with you singing them to my daughters because they were written about me, right?” Gwen finished, catching on very quickly to her soon to be son-in-law’s request. 

Keen actually blushed. “But only if you’re a hundred percent okay with it. They’re amazing songs and they say...exactly how me and Ollie feel.” 

“They thought it’d be sweet, Mom. But you can say no.” Marli reassured her. 

Gwen didn’t really know how she felt about it, truly. She didn’t even know what songs they were referring to but Gwen knew any Blake Shelton love song about his first ex-wife had to either be deeply tragic or devotedly perfect. She wasn’t sure which was worst.

“Which songs were you guys planning on singing?” The mother of three asked. 

Keen’s eyes brightened. “I want to do  _ “Don’t Make ‘Em Like You No More”  _ and Oliver is adamant about doing  _ “Keep Coming Back”  _ if you say yes.” 

Layla visibly cringed. “That’s like, Mom and Dad’s song. He can’t sing that to Lennon.”

Gwen wondered if her youngest really cared about the significance of that particular song to her and Blake or if she just didn’t want Oliver to sing such a lyric to her older sister. 

_ God, excuse my language, but we’re all fucked.  _

Gwen sighed, and Marli shot her little sister a glaring look. 

“Layla, it’s up to Mom.” 

The thing was...Gwen’s never truly hated being Blake’s muse, not when they were out on the road, slowly falling in love with each other as she wrote during the day, and he sang to thousands of people at night. Not even when they broke up or got back together again so many times. Not even when they divorced. She’s loved being his something--someone--to talk about. And when that focus had shifted to Connie, it had been the only time Gwen was ever really jealous of her friend. 

“So what do you say, Gwen?” Keen asked, hopeful, handsome, and completely in love with her daughter. If it wasn’t for that, Gwen might have said no.

“I guess that’d be pretty nice of you both to do. Go ahead.” 

Marli and Keen kissed softly, excitedly, overjoyed at her answer. Layla visibly sulked but Gwen couldn’t do anything about that, except maybe confront the issue head on and she was neither awake enough or brave enough to do just that. It’s how she found herself here in this precise moment to begin with.

“Can I ask a question that I’ve been dying to ever since I heard the songs? I’d ask Blake if he wouldn’t shoot me with his shotgun first.” Keen said. Gwen smiled and nodded for him to continue. “When exactly did he write ‘em? I know songs mean more when they’re written in a moment instead of months or years after the fact.” 

Gwen sucked in a breath, mind flashing to a million memories in the past, because Keen was right. Those songs wouldn’t have the same meaning if Blake wasn’t inspired to put them down on paper right when he was feeling them.

“Well...he wrote  _ “Don’t Make ‘Em Like You No More” _ two weeks before the end of his  _ Austin _ tour…” Gwen smiled at the next memory. “He played it for me on that last night. He ended the run in Nashville, where we first met. It was the night he proposed marriage, the same night I told him I was pregnant. Of course, I didn’t know it was gonna be twins.” 

“That was always romantic to me. You and Dad falling in love on the road and getting married right after.” Marli said, dreamily. 

Gwen grimaced. It wasn’t all romantic. She was completely scared out of her mind to be pregnant so young, and by a man who was this big country star that had a habit of loving just a little too hard and drinking a little too much. But he had loved her something fierce at the time, and Gwen was a fool for Blake Shelton back then.

“What about  _ “Keep Coming Back” _ ?” Layla asked, sour mood all but gone at any mention of her parent’s love story. Layla was always the one to hold out hope that she and Blake would get back together somewhere down the line. Maybe it had to do with her being the youngest, or the most angry that she only got a few less years with her parents being in the same home than her sisters. Or maybe she just knew more than all of them. Gwen doubted it, seeing as how the nineteen year old was in love with a man irrevocably unavailable in every sense of the word. 

Gwen shifted her robe a little closer to her chest, hoping the fabric could somehow seep into her skin and wrap her heart up in silk. It’s how love with Blake used to feel. 

“ Blake wrote  _ "Keep Coming Back" _ on a napkin at the Music Row Cafe. I was singing at an open mic night, and he came in and he said he was inspired to write it just by looking at me. Think I fell in love with him in all of ten minutes. Of course, he was still on and off with his girlfriend at the time.” 

“Dad was shameless when it came to you.” Marli teased.

“Well, when you know, you know.” Keen said, leaning into kiss Marli’s cheek. Her daughter grinned. 

“Dad told me he was leaving her around that time the more he spent with you.” Layla said.

Gwen nodded. “He was, but I never allowed anything physical to happen between us until they were really through. He broke up with her right before he went on tour. That’s how we both fell in love.” 

“He invited you to write on the road with him while Aunt Hayden sang as one of his backup singers.” Layla stated, remembering her parent’s story vividly. 

“Yeah...that was the start of it all. And now I have my three best girls in the whole world.” Gwen smiled as she took each one of her daughter’s hands into her own. “I love you both, and your sister, who apparently has bad manners.” 

Layla and Marli laughed, agreeing with their mother, wholeheartedly. 

➣➣➣ 

_ Nashville, Tennessee _

_ Crying underwater, breathing in outer space, putting faith into something that could never take place. Would you give every shard of my heart back to me? Would you comb through the wreckage ‘fore it slides to the sea? _

Gwen closed her eyes as she sang quietly into the mic. She was afraid to keep them open lest they find her friends, Hayden and Sadie, sitting in a front row table, cheering her on silently as she performed to a packed Music Row audience.

_ I've been searching for answers, I've been workin' on a cure. I've been a slow-song dancer to a rhythm that ain't pure. I will come around tomorrow, and forget yesterday. I will bleed out the sorrow that you put in me today. _

Tony’s face couldn’t help but appear in her mind, and Gwen willed the images of him telling her goodbye all those weeks ago out of her head as she sang. But they wouldn’t leave her alone because she was singing about him, even for him. He was lost, trying to find himself like everyone else in the world, and thought he had to break up with her to do so. 

Gwen had been heartbroken. Tony was her first love. Before, she would look at him and pray that God would let her have babies with him. And now, she’d been kicked to the side, forgotten, unwanted by the boy she wanted the most. Singing about it brought all those old feelings back up again. 

When her performance came to a close, Gwen thanked the audience softly, feeling somewhat encouraged that she managed to perform in such a revered venue as the Music Row Cafe. If it wasn’t for Hayden pulling a few strings, Gwen would have never done so.

“You did such a good job!” Sadie pulled her friend into a hug as soon as she made it back to the table. 

“Really, Gwen. You blew everyone away. Nice job, girl.” Hayden said when it was her turn to embrace the nineteen year old. 

“Thanks, guys. It was fun.” Gwen said, clearly still affected by the song and all Tony had put her through. 

Her last visit to Nashville had only been a couple of weeks ago and Gwen didn’t expect to be back so soon. It was funny how she felt the breakup more this time around than the last, not knowing what was different. Maybe she was more focused on visiting the city for the first time than Tony and the heartbreak, but now that she was back, and only because her father had wanted to take the entire family for a small vacation after Gwen raved about her time there after just a couple of days, the nineteen year old could only really focus on the fact that Tony and her should still be together. He should have been on this trip with her and her family. 

But he wasn’t, and would most likely never be, and Gwen would just have to accept that.

“We should start heading back, though. Your Dad said no later than ten, tonight.” Sadie said.

Gwen groaned. It was completely crazy to think that Sadie and Hayden, who were both the same age as her, lived in an apartment of their own, both with full paying jobs, and baby careers in the music industry, while Gwen still lived at home, pushing through a college degree, yearning to be somewhere else, and someone else. 

It just wasn’t fair. 

As if reading her mind, Hayden wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her gently to the front where the exit was. “Don’t cry shopgirl. We’ll be back.” 

Gwen grinned into her friend’s shoulder.

They were almost to the doors when Gwen’s eyes happened to look to the left of her, spotting a familiar face in a cowboy hat and light blue jeans. He was already looking at her, a pen and napkin in front of him just like last time, except there was no drink in his left hand. 

“Wait, stop.” Gwen said quickly, pausing in her friend’s arms. Hayden and Sadie followed her line of vision, and once Gwen was moving across the bar, they both gave each other confusing glances but waited by the door.

“Your face healed, nicely. Any crazy fans will recognize you, now.” Gwen said, surprising herself with how forward she was being. She just couldn’t believe he was there, again, at the same time she was. 

Blake Shelton grinned at her. “You realize you just called yourself a crazy fan because you’re the only one who’s recognized me so far.” 

Gwen cocked her head in mock contemplation. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

He chuckled and waved her down to take a seat in front of him. She shook her head.

“I have to leave.” 

He frowned. “You don’t want to stay a little longer?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to.” She said, boldly. 

Blake shook his head, amused. Then he stood up. “Will you let me take you wherever it is you need to be so badly, then?”

Gwen startled. “I don’t even know you all that well. And don’t you have a girlfriend?” 

“...We’re not together right now.” 

“Right now because you’re looking at me or right now because you’re really over?” 

Blake drew just an inch closer. “Wow...Um, right now, as in, we’re over and I’m lookin’ at you.” 

_ Real smooth. God, he’s so tall and his eyes are so blue. _

“I don’t even know how old you are.” Gwen said, desperately trying to fight it.

“Twenty-two.” 

“And Blake Shelton.” She said, tasting a little bit of his success as his name rolled off her tongue.

“And Blake Shelton.” He confirmed. “But tonight, with you, is it okay if I’m just Blake?” 

_ God,  _ he  _ is smooth. _

“My friends would never leave me alone with you.” Gwen said, regretfully, because it was the truth. 

Blake shrugged. “They can tag along. I don’t care how I get to know you, just that I do.” 

Gwen laughed. “You  _ do _ have a way with words.” 

He smiled. “Is that a yes?” 

The nineteen year old contemplated his question before turning around to see her friends staring at the two of them. She could tell that Hayden and Sadie now recognized the man before them and she couldn’t very well deny them the opportunity of meeting Blake Shelton. She turned back around to face the country artist. 

“I’m staying with my parents and siblings at The Beverly Hotel. You can walk me back with my friends. Their car is parked over there.”

He smiled and gathered his tan coat. Gwen saw him reach for the napkin on the table, another one scrawled all over with pen. She thought back to the first napkin he showed her, how the beginnings of a hit song were on the front of it. 

He let her walk ahead of him and opened the door for her and her friends. 

Introductions were made outside, and Hayden was absolutely star struck. Sadie couldn’t believe he was the same man her and Hayden pushed Gwen to meet that first time when they saw him. 

“So what are you doing hanging out at Music Row?” Sadie asked the country star as they began their walk down Vince Avenue. 

Blake shrugged. “I moved out to Nashville when I was nineteen and ended up playin’ there some nights in between begging record labels for a deal.” He smiled at the memory. “Narvel Blackstock, I don’t know if you know of him--” 

“Of course we do.” Hayden interrupted excitedly. Gwen rolled her eyes, seeing as how  _ she _ didn’t. Gwen gave up every truly knowing the country world like her friends did. 

Blake chuckled, handsomely. “Well, he saw me play one night and convinced his buddy Scott Hendricks, who’s my producer now, to come and check me out. Before I knew it, I was being signed to Warner Music Nashville and my single  _ “Austin”  _ was being played on every country radio station. But no matter how many songs I write or get from other songwriters or how many cities I visit, Nashville’s a second home to me now, and Music Row is where it all started. I go back when I need to be surrounded by music and other artists who haven’t quite made it big enough to forget the music that got them started in the first place.” 

He turned to Gwen, suddenly, eyes flashing with joy. “Your song was incredible, by the way.” 

Gwen fought down a blush. “Thank you. Not exactly country, though.” 

“Don’t have to be. It was a story, and those folks in there enjoyed the hell out of it.” 

This time, Gwen couldn’t help flushing. Sadie and Hayden smirked. 

“So what are you doin’ in Nashville, again? Are you plannin’ on staying?” Blake asked. 

“She’s visiting with her family for the next couple of days. But we try to convince her to move out here with us every chance we get.” Sadie answered for her.

“I can’t just move to Nashville. There’s nothing really here for me besides my friends.” Gwen replied. 

“What if there was?” Blake asked, seriously. 

Gwen looked into his eyes, thinking how ridiculous her life had become. Here she was being walked to her hotel by country artist Blake Shelton, and there was a future in his eyes, and some kind of wish in her own.

“Then that would change things...But I’m going to school in California right now. My parents want me and my siblings to have a degree to fall back on.” 

Blake bit the inside of his cheek. “What do you want to be?”

“I’m going to school for business.” 

“I didn't ask what you were going to school for. I asked what you wanted to be.” He said, voice as smooth as velvet.

Gwen puffed out a long breath. “I guess a singer...a songwriter if I can’t be that.”

“You wrote that song you sang tonight?” 

Gwen nodded. “Does it have potential?” 

Blake smiled down at her, and there was something about the way his eyes brightened that caught Gwen off guard as he answered, “It certainly does,” he said, and Gwen got the distinct impression that he was talking about much more than the song.

“So what do you two do?” Blake asked Sadie and Hayden behind him.

“I have a publishing deal with Salt Lake Treehouse and Hayden sings backup for a couple up and coming artists here in Nashville. Even though she hates it.” Sadie answered. 

“I don’t hate it, I just wish I had a more permanent gig. I get tossed around to all these different singers and groups but I want to be on tour with an established artist. I want a steady gig. That’s the dream. To be a part of a real band and know I won’t ever be replaced unless for good reason.” Hayden defended. 

“She’s a really good singer.” Gwen told Blake. 

“I don’t doubt it.” He said. “And I get what you mean. When you tour with some people long enough, they become family.” 

Hayden smiled at the back of Blake’s head as the group lapsed into a comfortable silence. There was a slow evening breeze descending upon them and when Gwen wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders, Blake unfolded his jacket and placed it around her. Gwen would have swooned if she had any idea which action of his to fawn over first. Ever since she met him, he’s been more charming toward her than anyone ever has before.

As they continued their walk, the four of them talked about the best places in Nashville to visit, from Music Row, to Owen Bradley Park, to the Grand Ole Opry. They talked about the girls’ friendship and how it blossomed their sophomore year in highschool and continued on after graduation, even after Sadie and Hayden left Anaheim for Nashville. Blake even opened up about his childhood growing up in Oklahoma some.

Before they all knew it, they were standing outside Gwen’s hotel. The girls made it to their car in no time, with promises to be back in the afternoon to take Gwen out to lunch. They also made her promise that she wouldn’t run off with Blake after they left instead of going right up to her room. 

Gwen had flushed, waving them goodbye. When she turned to the country singer, he was grinning down at her. 

“I guess this is where we call it a night.” She said, hearing how much she didn’t really want to in her voice. 

Blake stuffed his hands in his jeans and pulled out that crumbled napkin from earlier. “This is for you.” 

Gwen didn’t open it, knowing it would be some more song lyrics from his heart to her ears, God willing. “You make it a habit to write songs on napkins?” She teased him. 

“...I just came in tonight and you were singin’ and...I was inspired to write it just by lookin’ at you.”

The tips of her ears burned. The pace of her heart quickened.

“Don’t you want to keep it? Maybe record it or give it away to be recorded by someone else?” She asked him.

He shook his head. “The next time I see you, you can give it back to me, and I’ll record it, but I won’t release it.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because that one’s for you and only you. Not the world. Besides, I have a feelin’ I’ll be writin’ plenty of songs in the future with you in mind.” 

And with that, he kissed her on the cheek, chastely, softly, tenderly, and walked away from her for the first time in her life. She couldn’t know then that there would be many more times where she’d see the back of him. She couldn’t know that he would be right, that they’d meet again, that she’d keep hold of her song from him, that she’d give it back to him and years down the line, she’d give her daughter's future husband permission to sing it. 

All she knew now, was that the time it took for Blake Shelton to walk her back to her hotel was all of ten minutes, and she had fallen in love.

➣➣➣

**Santa Fe, New Mexico**

“I’m getting a dog.” 

“Luke, you are not getting a dog.” 

“I am, Gwen, and you’ll love whatever I pick out.” 

“You’ll be  _ moving _ out if I come home to a dog in the house.” The pop singer said, completely serious. 

She had a dog before. Betty. Blake already rescued her before she even met him. He took her everywhere with him, even on tour. When they decided to get married and had Lennon and Marli, they moved in together, and of course Betty went with them. Slowly but shortly, Betty became Gwen’s dog, and Gwen loved the canine like she was one of their own children. The girls grew up with Betty, and used to love playing with her, dressing her up, much to Betty and Blake’s chagrin, and even sleeping with the puppy. When Betty passed when the older girls were twelve, it’d been hard on everyone. Her and Blake had been over for a long time, and he was with Connie and Denver in Tennessee. He let Betty stay with the girls since they loved her so much, but news of her passing had hit him hard, especially since he wasn’t around those last few years of her life. Gwen felt guilty about that for a long time, since Betty was technically his dog first. The entire experience turned her off from having another pet, so she never did. 

“What about a cat?” Luke asked, instead. 

“ _ Luke,  _ please.” 

“Okay, okay. No pets.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Man, am I dying to see you. It’s only been like a day but I miss you, babe.” 

Gwen smiled into the phone as she ran a smooth hand along the finest red brick that made up the entire exterior of the resort, liking the way the dust settled on her fingertips like freshly fallen ash. “I miss you, too. But we only have to wait until tomorrow morning.” She reminded him as she looked over to the resort entrance, seeing a slim black car pull up in front. 

Luke sighed. “Tell me you’re having a miserable time down there without me.” 

Gwen looked away, back to the red brick and laughed, softly. “I’m miserable without you.”

She could hear his grin. “Best thing to hear...Alright, babe. I gotta get back to these meetings. I’ll call you later, okay? Love you.” 

“I love you.” She said, making sure the words left her mouth this time. 

“Gwen?” Called a soft voice from behind her. A firm hand was placed on her shoulder.

She turned around and immediately hugged the familiar figure. 

Scott Hendricks smelled, looked, and felt the same, even after all these years. Gwen breathed in the earthy, slightly citrusy and fresh scent of Scott’s cologne as he tightened his hold on her for a moment longer before pulling away.

“I thought that was your blonde hair.” Scott teased. 

Gwen smiled, taking a brief look at Blake’s longtime record producer. Where once his wavy hair was as dark as the earth’s surface, now it stood out with its copper and honey color, like butterscotch with just a hint of grey underneath the surface.

“Did you just fly in?” She asked. 

He nodded, eyes gleaming a baby blue with a tiny cloud in the middle. “Yeah. I would have been here yesterday but Hannah had her baby.”

“Oh, wow! Congratulations, Grandpa,” Gwen said, excitedly.

“I know. It’s a big deal. Feels different having a little grandchild thrown into the mix but we’re all happy.”

“I love to hear you say so. Change is good, sometimes.”

“Speaking of change. I got a call from Jonathan last week. Said something about you and some new project, and me possibly producing it? Don’t tell me you’re finally makin’ a country album?” 

Gwen rolled her eyes, “You wish.” 

Scott snorted in amusement. “Well, when your manager goes around calling every producer in Nashville you start to wonder.”

Gwen hid a laugh behind her smile. “No, it’s...my label reached out and said they're interested in another record from me, but it’s been a few years since the last one, and I’m not getting any younger. I think what I have to say has changed...maybe even my sound, I don’t know. But I  _ do _ know that I want to make something that’s different from all my other stuff and that starts with working with a producer I haven’t before. Jonathan figured that I’ve known you the longest. I trust you with my kids, it can’t be too difficult to trust you with my music...it seemed like a good fit...” 

The older man grinned. “I tell stories when I make music, no matter who with. You ready to tell a story?” 

“I am. And I know you’re the best at that. Thirty-seven number one hits in this industry...You’ve worked with all the country legends. I want that kind of hardwork and dedication in my corner.” Gwen said. 

Scott bit his lip. “Are you sure we’ll be able to work together?” 

Gwen frowned. “Why do you say that?” 

Scott sighed and scratched the back of his balding head. “You know twenty-six of those number one hits are because of him.” Gwen looked down at her feet. “And he’s not done. We’re not done. He’s promised three more albums before his retirement and even then, no one wants him to hang up the hat, least of all me. But it’d be a conflict of interest...me workin’ with you while I’m workin’ with him.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Gwen protested, feeling a whine in the back of her throat. “You can make his record first and then mine. He’s still in demand, I know that. My stuff can wait. It would actually be better if it did. Builds anticipation for my comeback.” 

Scott smirked. “You don’t take rejection easily do you?” 

“Have you known me for the past twenty years?” 

The producer chuckled. “Fair enough. How ‘bout you give me the weekend to think on it. I know neither one of us wants to make a rash decision here.” 

Gwen could understand that and said as such. 

“Alright, well let me get checked in, Gwen.” 

“I’d start with the pool if I were you.” She suggested. 

He laughed and disappeared inside the resort with one last wave of his hand.

Gwen hoped he would say yes to her when the time came. 

_ You don’t take rejection easily do you?  _

How embarrassing would it be if she was rejected by Blake all those years ago and now his producer, like a postcard returned back to its sender. 

➣➣➣

Maybe Santa Fe was growing on Gwen.

It had nothing to do with the hot sun, or the long drives, or even the fact that her daughters were going to be married there, and had everything to do with the way the light descended on the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. 

That was a sight within itself and the mother of three wished she could stop time in that moment and just live forever in the seconds it took the sun to touch the earth in that exact spot.

“That’s beautiful.” Hayden murmured, eyes glued to the window. 

It wasn’t just beautiful. It was postcard worthy, and Gwen was relieved to not feel so bad saying that. 

The pop singer had hitched a ride with her manager and Hayden, with Layla tagging along. They were on their way to the Red Rim.

Everyone was looking forward to stepping foot into the famous bar, but Gwen just kept her excitement on the town they were driving through to get there. It seemed like it was drenched in history, married to the desert and the big sky above it. Gwen felt brand new there, like she could erase the past twenty plus years and stay in New Mexico, sending out postcards and making music for the rest of her life.

That comfortable bubble popped the moment they arrived at the bar. 

The Red Rim was known for a lot of things, being Johnny Cash’s favorite hangout on the Santa Fe trail being one of them, but mostly because the drinks were always doubles, and the live intimate music was some of the best of the best.

Her group was one of the last to arrive, with all the kids nineteen and over having arrived before them, which meant no Denver, Candance, or Colt. The girls’ friends managed to tag along, minus Billie who wasn’t feeling well. Brad and Kelly were missing, too, having gone mountain climbing with Keen and Marli.

Once inside, Gwen offered to get Jonathan, Hayden, and Layla something to drink before joining them and the rest of the wedding crew. She would have to search for them when she was done at the bar, but Gwen didn’t mind too much. 

She was just waiting for Jonathan’s vodka tonic and sipping at her own watermelon margarita when she noticed the large group in the corner--her family and friends--specifically, Blake. He was standing across the room, next to a small, strikingly beautiful, blonde woman in cowboy boots.

They were matching, with blue jeans, and old, big X Texas t-shirts. The woman was laughing at something Blake said and clutching his arm while she did. 

“Here’s your vodka tonic, ma’am.” The male bartender said, setting her last drink down on the counter.

“Thank you.” She said, smiling at the man. He was clearly a fan of hers and recognized her as soon as she came in, but he must get plenty of famous musicians and singers in all the time, every one of them stopping by the bar where one of their heroes used to play at.

Gwen made her way to the group in the corner, a bright smile plastered on her face as she drew near. 

Jonathan and Hayden both lunged for their drinks while Layla grabbed her cherry and coke less enthusiastically. Gwen locked eyes with Blake as she set her margarita down on the table. 

“Hey, Mom.” Lennon greeted, standing up and over Oliver to kiss her mother’s cheek. Oliver squeezed her hip in greeting and Gwen nodded to the rest of the group, smiling at Declan and Connie, and Scarlett, Gunnar, and William. She didn’t know Scott got an invitation but she greeted the music producer once again. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” Blake welcomed her, and Gwen was silently pleased that he always greeted her in the same way, no matter where they were or who they were with. 

“Hi.” She smiled warmly, eyes going to the woman beside him.

“Gwen, this is Miranda Lambert.” Blake introduced. 

“You must be ex-wife number one.” The young blonde joked, startling Gwen. The table laughed easily, so Gwen kept an open mind. 

“That’d be me, and baby mama number one, too, I guess.” Gwen replied, hoping the table would laugh at her teasing, as well. They didn’t disappoint her. 

Miranda smiled, tensely. “I like you, already.” 

Oh please, Gwen thought. 

Oliver moved his chair over to make room for his future mother-in-law and Gwen sat down immediately. She was less than happy about Miranda taking a seat to her left but didn’t show it as she sipped from her margarita quietly. 

Half an hour later, they were sitting around that large circular table, fourteen familiar friends and family focused on easy conversation, good memories, and better stories. Eventually, the mic opened up for anyone willing to play on the stage Johnny Cash once stood, and of course, Lennon Ray wasted no time offering to perform first. She did a sweet rendition of Duffy’s acoustic  _ “Don’t Forsake Me”  _ which impressed more than her family and friends. The bar was completely enamoured by her, which came as no surprise to her or Blake. 

During the set, she caught her ex-husband’s eye and they both smiled at each other, thinking the exact same thing at that moment. 

_ We created that. Good on us. _

Once Lennon relinquished the stage to William, the bar patrons were on their feet for the twenty-three year old’s cover of Randy Travis’s  _ “Forever and Ever, Amen”  _ which Gwen smiled all the way through, even as Oliver spun her, Lennon, and Layla around in a big circle as they danced and sang along with the cowboy on stage. 

Gwen could admit when she was having a good time, and it only continued like that for the next several hours. They took turns singing, like it was karaoke night, except every one of them had a voice that could pass the test of time. Except maybe Scott, which Gwen had to laugh about.

Connie and Declan did a beautiful duet they wrote together called  _ “No One Will Ever Love You”  _ that almost brought Gwen to tears, while Gunnar and Oliver tag teamed Alan Jackson and Jimmy Buffett’s  _ “It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere”.  _

Gwen’s favorite moment, however, was when Layla and Blake sang a duet he co-wrote with Reba once upon a time. It was called  _ “You Ain’t Dolly”  _ and it was the cutest/funniest thing Gwen’s seen in a long time. She even took out her camera and recorded both of them along with everyone else. 

Jonathan could actually hold a note in his own right, and got up on stage to sing with Hayden. The two of them did a sweet performance of  _ “I Will Fall”  _ a song Hayden and Sadie wrote together about their own bad breakups. 

Gwen was instantly grateful when she didn’t have to go up herself and sing something. She didn’t particularly have a country song off the top of her head that she could do justice, so she thought it better to leave it to all the country folks around her. 

That meant suffering through Miranda’s performance, which Gwen didn’t expect to like. But the young artist performed an original called  _ “Bathroom Sink”  _ and even though it wasn’t exactly her cup of tea, Gwen could see that the girl was an honest songwriter first, and a performer second.

It opened the door for Scarlett to sing an original piece of her own on the so far unused piano, which Gwen was grateful for, at least until the girl opened her mouth and started to sing Gwen’s truth as if she was there by her side living it alongside her for the last twenty years of her life. 

_ I heard that you're settled down. That you found a girl and you're married now. I heard that your dreams came true. Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you. _

Gwen was standing off to the side, a little ways away from the stage but still close to the table. She looked at her daughter’s friend up there, noting Scarlett’s curly platinum hair and big blue eyes. She looked like a porcelain doll and yet sang like someone had broken her once before and hadn’t thought to pick up her pieces and glue her back together again.

_ Never mind, I'll find someone like you. I wish nothing but the best for you, too. Don't forget me, I beg. I'll remember, you said, "Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead, sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.” _

She felt him before she saw him...Blake...sneaking his way up behind and beside her, like a snake preying on her heart. Gwen looked up at him, a question in her eyes. He didn’t answer it, just kept looking forward, but didn’t stir away from her. Afterall, that’s what they’ve both been doing since they chose to separate. They kept looking ahead, but knew the other one was still there, beside them in this life they weren’t living together. 

Gwen exhaled and leaned into his side, letting him know she got it.

_ I miss you, too. I’ll always miss you. For now, we’ll stand here, without expectations, without our two vastly different worlds keeping us at arm’s length, and we’ll listen to this song and feel whatever it is we want. Because when it ends, so does the moment, and so do we.  _

With that, Gwen leaned a little harder into him, wanting to feel the walls he’d put up so long ago come down around her. 

_ You know how the time flies, only yesterday was the time of our lives. We were born and raised, in a summer haze. Bound by the surprise of our glory days. _

Flashes of late nights out on tour, kisses and songs underneath many skies, three daughters playing in the mud and grass with the sweetest puppy, a wedding out in the fields of wildflowers, bare feet resting on each other on a porch swing, postcards sent from city to city, from town to town, state to state.

_ I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited but I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it. I'd hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded that for me, it isn't over. _

Gwen’s eyes scanned the room, finding Lennon and Gunnar recording Scarlett as William watched entranced next to them. Layla was by Oliver’s side, stealing glances up at him as the older man watched Scarlett from afar, but his arm was behind her daughter on the bar counter, and she knew that proximity must’ve meant the world to Layla. She knew her arm resting against Blake’s now meant the world to her.

Declan and Connie sat with Scott at the table, and Gwen searched around for Hayden and Jonathan, finding them on the far side of the bar with Miranda. It appeared like they were in the middle of buying another round of drinks when Scarlett’s performance caught them by surprise, for now their eyes were glued to the stage, their faces and hearts open and vulnerable, surprised by the moment. They all were.

Gwen did what Layla had been doing with Oliver since the song started, she looked up at a man that she’d always be infatuated with, always  _ feel  _ so many things for, and in some ways,  _ want  _ in almost every capacity there was, knowing there was another girl several feet away from them that had a stake in his future, a claim on his heart. But Layla would get over him, just like Gwen got over Blake. 

_ Or maybe Layla would just get better at pretending. Gwen sure did. _

Oliver had to feel her daughter’s eyes on him, the same way Blake felt Gwen’s. But he was still looking toward the stage, not anywhere near Miranda. Layla couldn’t say the same for Oliver, who’s focus had landed somewhere around Lennon’s halo.

Gwen’s chest hurt for all of her girls. Love was a tricky, fickle, thing, and if she could keep them all from feeling it, she would in a heartbeat. But they got here because of love. If it wasn’t for Blake, Gwen would not have known the kind of warmth or intimacy that came with bringing children into the world. 

The mother of three melted into her ex-husband, listening with her whole body. Blake wrapped his arm around her back, abruptly, hand going to her hip, fingers digging in to hard flesh. 

_ Nothing compares, no worries or cares. Regrets and mistakes, they are memories made. Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste? _

She lifted her head and suddenly they were staring into each other’s eyes. Scarlett’s voice washed over them, wrapping them up in the moment, protecting them from consequences and regret. 

The song was like a spell, and Gwen felt it coming to an end.

_ All good things do. _

And that moment between them had been great. Her and Blake hadn’t seen each other since they moved Layla into her dorm. The experience had been brief, like all of their encounters over the years. But here it was different. Here, they were forced to be around each other for an extended amount of time. Here, Gwen felt Luke’s absence more than she ever had before. Here, Gwen felt like a lost postcard, intended to get to someone important, somewhere important, but got lost in the wind behind these crisp Santa Fe mountains, and ended up somewhere on this bar floor with her heart not completely intact.

“You alright?” Blake asked softly, tilting his head, and moving his mouth closer to her ear.

She nodded, because she couldn’t afford to be anything but alright around him. 

“Didn’t know Scarlett was that talented.” Gwen replied, keeping them on the ground, because Blake had a way of taking her to higher places, places she no longer had the stomach for.

“Definitely told a story with that one.” Blake replied, squeezing her hip.

As the last piano notes filled the air, Gwen turned a little in Blake’s half embrace, so that she could see him properly. She had something to say to him but the singer didn’t exactly know what that was. It seemed like they were just starting something here, and it was the last thing she needed because she was barely finished with what she had back home.

“Thanks for this. It’s been fun.” She said, instead, knowing it was the right thing to do, because it was safe, low to the ground, and easy.

“I’m glad the girls invited you. I would have myself but I don’t know what room you’re stayin’ in.” Blake responded. 

“1115.” Gwen said, unconsciously. She didn’t know what possessed her to give him that kind of information but she couldn’t take it back now that it was out.

He nodded, oblivious to her inner struggle. “I think we’ll call it after Lennon goes on again. God help us.” He teased as their oldest daughter, by three minutes, hugged Scarlett off the stage and prepared for another performance herself. 

Gwen laughed at the curly-haired blonde, shaking her head. “She’s all me, isn’t she?” 

Blake grinned down at her. “You’re a little better about sharin’ the spotlight even though it was always meant to be on you.” 

Gwen smiled down at their shoes. Her hand somehow found its way to Blake’s chest, her fingertips lightly moving back and forth over the T of his shirt. It reminded her of Miranda, and then Luke. The pop singer pulled away from Blake gently. 

“I should head back to the table. I’ve been nursing the same margarita since I got here. I think it’s time I finish it.” Gwen excused herself politely. 

“Can I--” Blake started, keeping her from leaving just yet. “Can we get a drink together down at the bar sometime? Maybe before the rehearsal tonight? I just...I thought we could finally do that catch up thing you always tell me we’ll have but never do.” 

The request shouldn’t have surprised her. She  _ did  _ always say that they’ll get together sometime and talk, and reminisce, like normal people do. They’ve just never been on the same page, or felt the same way, or even been in the same state long enough to do so. 

But to do it, now... _ tonight. _

“If not that’s okay, Gwen. I just miss you, is all.” He said, kindly. 

_ I miss you, too. I hate you sometimes, but I miss you even then. _

“Okay. Yeah, tonight…” 

Her ex-husband let her go then, but not without leaning down and kissing her temple chastely. He smiled at her flushed skin but didn’t say anything as Gwen walked away from him.

Once at the table, Scott pushed her glass over to her smugly. She felt his eyes burning the side of her face and finally looked at the producer. 

“What?” She asked, still red. 

“I just don’t know how you both managed all these years.” Scott told her after a moment. 

Gwen shook her head. “What do you mean?” 

“Going these long periods of time without talking or seeing each other.” 

She shrugged. “It just became easier to text rather than call. It wasn’t planned...” Gwen said, turning to the older man. “All those summers dropping the girls off as they got older...Connie met me at the airport. Blake was always conveniently too busy with something. It’s not like I could tell him to stop being mad at me at the time.” 

“I don’t think he was ever really mad...just hurt.” 

Gwen sighed. “And so was I.” 

Scott nodded. “I know. I just didn’t think...I know the divorce was hard, but you two were tied to each other pretty tightly. It’s just weird to see how much distance you’ve put between yourselves. I think he badly misses you.” Scott said softly. “Especially without Connie to keep him occupied. These last two years have been hard on him.” 

“He looks pretty unaffected to me.”

“Then you’ve forgotten who he is.” 

Gwen glanced at the producer in disbelief. “Scott…”

“Alright. I’m just sayin’ though…” 

“He brought Miranda.” She pointed out, nodding to the woman over by the bar.

“That’s not serious.” Scott waved her off. 

“Well...I’m with Luke.”

“That can’t be serious either.” 

“And why not?” 

Scott gave her a pointed look. “Do you love Blake?” 

“Of course I love him,” Gwen whispered, mindful of Declan and Connie across from them. “He’s the father of my kids. I’m always going to love him. And before you ask, I was  _ in  _ love with him when we were kids, and I’m not anymore, a child,  _ or _ in love with Blake Shelton. I’ve moved past that.” 

Scott worried his bottom lip between his two front teeth. “Okay...Are you in love with Luke Hill?”

Gwen went to answer but found herself hesitating with her words. “...Luke is handsome and so smart. He knows me, and we get each other, and it’s nice.”

“But he doesn’t do that thing to you that Blake does.” Scott said, knowingly. “That thing you write about in your music, and talk about to your girls. That thing that’s been following you around for the past twenty years.” 

Gwen shook her head. “The older you get the more crazy you sound, Scott.” 

He shrugged. “I can only tell you what I know. I can’t make you believe it or even live by it.” 

“What does that even  _ mean _ ?”

“That you both can marry other people, hell even have kids with them, and still never really, truly, be satisfied with your lives. I know from experience. Teri and I would be miserable if we didn’t call off our own divorce because as much as we thought there was nothing left to save in our marriage, we had to remember that there was so much more to  _ make  _ together that it would eventually outnumber whatever it was that was trying to convince us we were better apart. ‘Cause we’re not.”

“Me and Blake are.” Gwen protested. 

“I’m not so sure.” 

“Why do you care so much?” She asked, not unkindly. 

“Because I work with the guy. I go to the studio every album and watch him do what he does best. I hear the music that he writes that he thinks is no good because you aren’t there to tell him so. You’re still the person he needs recognition from. Not Connie, not me, not country radio, and certainly not Miranda Lambert.” 

“I knew Layla always wanted me and him to work it out but you just might take that number one spot, Scott.” Gwen told him, trying to lighten the serious mood. She was tired of defending their decision to split. She was tired of trying to protect herself from things she only allowed herself to feel in the early hours of the morning. 

“What can I say? I’m Gwake’s biggest fan.” He said, referring to the media’s nickname for her and Blake.

Gwen cringed while she laughed, having forgotten how much of a topic of conversation their relationship had been back in the day.

“If I remember right, it’s Shefani. At least the fans pushed for that to be the winner over Gwake.” 

“Despite you both signing all your postcards with it.” 

“It was Blake who signed them because he thought it was stupid. I just wrote all the cute messages.” 

Scott shook his head, grinning. “Those were good times...Do you still collect them?” 

Gwen’s smile faltered. “Not anymore.” 

“Well you know the bar sells their own postcards here. Do you want one?” 

Gwen was so desperate to get away from that question--from that time in her past. How can something be so good at one point in her life but feel so bad in another.

_ I just miss you, is all. _

_ You don’t take rejection easily do you? _

_ Do you still collect them? _

_ Do you want one? _


	3. Postcard from Sadie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> Welcome to the third chapter of Postcards.
> 
> Hope everyone is staying healthy.
> 
> FYI this story will not have any infidelity. This is a love letter to the amazing woman that is Gwen Stefani and an attempt to accurately portray a true love finding it's way back. It will be a longer story but with some fluff and family moments to come.
> 
> I hope you're intrigued by this one.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> ➣➣➣

**Santa Fe, New Mexico** __

Gwen watched from the bar’s entrance as Blake sat in a stool, frowning down at his wrists as he fastened a pair of silver cuff links.

Soft brown eyes studied his lean frame hidden behind a light, grey dress shirt and denim jeans. His grey and black curls swayed slightly as he tilted his head, regarding the bartender as the man offered to refill the country singer’s club soda. 

There was a memory that flashed through her eyes in that moment, a long time ago, when Blake was just a kid, tucking his shirt in his pants and fastening the belt hanging from his waist. He was inducted into the Opry that night. Gwen watched with pride from her seat in the audience with the girls. Watched as he ran a nervous hand through his gelled curls before walking across the stage to the screams and applause that he knew so well but knew felt so different at the same time. He needed a stiff brandy every evening after that day. 

Him throwing that crystal decanter across the room of their home studio just a week after was her most vivid memory. 

Gwen swallowed and walked over to him. 

“Are you wearing a tie tomorrow?” She asked him, settling into the stool beside him.

She was wearing a beautiful, silk, emerald green dress. The collar came up to her neck but there was a split in the fabric in the middle of her chest while the material tied into a neat bow at her waist. Her legs were exposed from the mid-thigh slit that wasn’t originally a part of the design. The dress had been altered for a photoshoot Gwen did several months ago but never used the images officially. There was a time when Blake wouldn’t let her leave the house like that without a little fooling around beforehand. Knowing that time had passed so long ago for him--for  _ them _ \--had been a tough bullet to swallow at first. Now, there was a group of men in the corner with their eyes on her, and as much as Gwen loved attention, she didn’t much like that particular kind. 

“You look beautiful,” Blake said, before anything else, when he saw her. 

Gwen had the decency to flush. “Thank you. You look handsome, yourself.” 

“Should I wear the blue or black jacket?” He asked, gesturing to the coats hanging off of the other chair next to him.

“The blue. It’s a dress rehearsal, not a funeral.” Gwen said, making no attempt to hide the amusement in her voice as he whipped his head around to give her an offended look. 

“I look good in black. Makes me slimmer.”

She smiled down at her hands, placing them dutifully in her lap.

“But I’ll wear the blue...because you like it.”

Gwen nodded. “I do.”

Blake smiled and drank the last of the contents in his glass in one large swallow, breathing heavily out of his nose once the carbonated water passed smoothly. His eyes trailed the length of her as he did. Gwen fought down the heat rising to her chest and neck at the look on his handsome face. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Blake gestured to the bartender on the other end of the counter.

“Yeah, I’d love one.” Gwen answered.

He smiled and waved down the man, ordering a glass of white wine for her and another club soda for him. He turned to her suddenly, face open, expression pondering.

“I can’t remember the last time we sat face to face together like this.” He said.

“Must have been some years ago.” Gwen tilted her head to the side, eyes softening. “I’m glad we’re doing it now.” 

“Me too. I’m Blake by the way.” He teased, holding his hand out.

Gwen laughed softly, shaking it with mirth. “I’m Gwen.” 

He grinned down at their hands before they could be disentangled from one another.

“Still a club soda?” Gwen asked, trying to make conversation. 

He shrugged. “Everything else is too fruity.” 

It was such a Blake response that Gwen had to hold in a laugh. She saw his eyes go to the right of her, over her shoulder, to the corner, and she had a feeling about what was coming next.

“Those guys can’t stop lookin’ at you.” 

“It’s fine. I’m not looking at them.” She replied, eyes narrowing onto him. It seemed to satisfy her ex-husband because he let the matter go. 

When their drinks arrived, Gwen thanked the bartender and pushed the country singer’s drink closer to him. “Cheers to the girls.” 

Blake took a sip of his carbonated water. “You never liked these did you?”

Gwen shook her head, tasting her riesling. “No flavor.” 

“There’s lime.” 

She cringed. “Gross.” 

Blake chuckled and set down his glass. He leaned further into her. “So we got that out of the way. Tell me what you’re doing now, musically.”

Her lips quirked. “My label wants another album. I’m thinking about borrowing your producer.” 

“Scott? You goin’ country?”

“Why does everyone assume that?” She asked, holding back the exasperation in her voice. 

“Because Scott doesn’t know shit about anything else.” 

Gwen shook her head. “Like he said...he gets artists to tell stories. That’s what he’s good at. I need that in my life right now.” 

“Your music has always told a story.” He reassured her.

“I know that...I do...but think about when I was nineteen or twenty three...when I was with you.” She swallowed harshly. “The stuff we made together...things I had to say were just a little more personal. I mean I look back now and the stuff I wrote about the breakup and the girls, that was honest. That was the truth. My commeralized stuff isn’t what I want to do anymore. I mean I can’t remember the last time I sat down and wrote a truthful anthem about my life...maybe  _ “Just A Girl”  _ was the last one. I want to get back to that. I don’t want to sell a lie, you know?”

“Is that how you think of yourself?” 

“As a lie?” 

“As just a girl.” 

She shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with it if the world can see me that way again. Better that than what I am right now.” 

Blake’s eyes danced. “See, I like your hair, and I like your dress,  _ right now _ . And all of that,” he pointed to her body. “All of that isn’t a girl anymore. It’s a woman. So yeah, maybe you have somethin’ different to say now, but you’ve never lost sight of the truth, Gwen. You’ve just gained a couple of miles on it and I think that’s beautiful...I think that’s worth writin’ about. You just gotta ask yourself if you will?”

Gwen felt her heart actually tilt at his words, at his incredible voice of reason, at his deep blue eyes. She remembered her father’s warning whenever she twisted her face into a frown when she was younger: “Careful, Gwen. Your face might stay that way forever if you don’t stop pouting.” 

_ Will my heart always be like this? Will it really stay this way forever, tilted toward someone she’s better off not having? _

“What did I say to you that first time we met?...You really do have a way with words. Remember that?” She asked him. 

“And what did I say back?...Oh right, is that a yes?” He grinned. 

Gwen laughed, honestly, out loud, right in front of his watchful gaze. “I’ll lean towards what you said the next time I’m in a studio.”

“A studio in Nashville.” He threw out there. 

Gwen bit her lip. “A studio in L.A.” 

“Scott won’t travel.” He said, matter-factly.

“You’re sure about that?” 

“Positive. Besides, Nashville is where the girls are. I know you have to miss them sometimes. I did when they were in California.” 

Gwen didn’t miss what went unsaid, what he probably didn’t mean to imply but snuck in there nonetheless. 

He would be in Nashville, too. She’s missed him, despite being frustrated with him over the last couple of months.

“I do miss them but I know they’re good where they are. You’re there. They have friends. Two of them are about to have husbands.” 

“Don’t keep bringin’ it up.” He joked.

She smirked. “So, what about you? What are you doing musically?”

“Goin’ through the Blake pile. Same as last time. New record by the end of the year. New tour in the beginning of the next one.” 

“You’re happy with that?”

“I haven’t been booed off stage yet. I’ll take that for as long as I can.” 

She nodded, knowing the feeling. “How’s the house coming along? Layla told me you started construction last month.”

“How far do you want to go with this?” He asked, cutting off the tail end of her question.

Gwen sighed and looked down at the bar counter, shaking her head. “Why do you--don’t say anything yet. It was working.”

“I don’t think it worked last time for me when I was avoidin’ the real stuff and just talkin’ about the weather and the kids like that really meant somethin’ at the end of the day.”

“That stuff does mean something. When you’re comfortable with someone you don’t always have to talk about the real stuff. Fluff can be nice.” 

“Yeah, but is it helpful? Are we gettin’ anywhere here?” He asked. 

Gwen shrugged, “Well, this is your game. I haven’t played it in a long time.” 

“It’s not a game. I wanted to talk. You wanted to talk, too, or else you wouldn’t be here.” 

“I shouldn’t be here.” 

“Why? Because of Luke?” 

“And Miranda.” Gwen emphasized.

“So, now we’re gettin’ to the real stuff.” 

“I’m just following your lead.” 

“It’s not a game, Gwen.” Blake repeated. 

“Well does this make any sense to you? Being here like this? Catching up now after everything that’s happened? Bringing up old feelings and memories? Does this even have a point when I’m with someone and you’re doing whatever it is you’re doing with her? Does it really make sense to you?” 

“Doesn’t have to. It’s somethin’ that happens.” Blake said, leaning even further into her space. “It’s like seeing someone for the first time, passin’ them on the street, and...and you look at each other and for a few seconds there’s this kind of a...recognition. Like you both know somethin’ but the next moment the person’s gone...and it’s too late to do anythin’ about it. And you always remember it because it was there...and you let it go. And you think to yourself, what if I’d stopped? What if I’d said somethin’? What if?...You and I have always been a ‘what if,’ Gwen. That...that may only happen a few times in your life.”

_ What if we never got pregnant? Or married? What if your father never died? What if you didn’t drink so much back then, or at all? What if my music career didn’t lead me right into Gavin Rossdale? What if you never had a baby with Connie? What if we never sent those damn postcards to each other? What if we never broke up? What if we never met at Music Row? Instead, somewhere like this, in the middle of the desert, older, wiser, less jaded, more available? What if we met on the street, and I looked at you, and you me, and we recognized each other, but let it go? What if I was just a girl from Anaheim on that sidewalk, and thought...what if? about a boy from Oklahoma?  _

“Or once.” She corrected, quietly, suddenly, eyes piercing into him. “It may only happen once in your life.”

“Or once.” Blake agreed, reaching for her hand, which was wrapped around the stem of her wine glass. 

Gwen looked down at their fingers for a moment before pulling away all together, taking a sip of the white. “What exactly was your plan? Get me to this wedding and sit me down and force me to admit that I still care about you? Because I will always care about you, Blake, but that doesn’t mean I want to get back together, now or in the future.” 

“I convinced myself that askin’ for a fifth or tenth chance from you right out the gate was a little selfish. I was hopin’ to convince you that I’ve changed instead. Maybe that would make you take things with Luke a little slower.” 

Gwen laughed. She couldn’t help it. “You don’t want me to marry him.”

“If I didn’t already know that you knew, I would think twice about telling you that he’s plannin’ on doin’ it real soon here. Maybe as soon as when you both get back to L.A.”

“How’d you find that out? Actually, how did you know I knew?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“I still have friends in L.A. They tell me things. And Hayden knows. You may have won custody over her in the divorce but she was still my backup singer first.” Blake teased. 

Gwen shook her head, amused. “Traitor.” 

“I prefer to call her loyal.” 

“Oh my God.” The pop singer cried, smiling from ear to ear. “Okay, and if I had magically seen a change in you in only three days, what would you have done?” 

“I would have told you to take your time. I rushed you all the time when we were kids...to get married, to take me back, to forgive me, to push aside your feelings for Gavin...I don’t believe in making decisions for you, anymore.”

“That’s not what’s holding me back.” 

“I know. You’re afraid of me. I scare you.” 

“I’ve been there before.” Gwen admitted, finally being honest with him. “It took me a while to get over us. You moved on so quickly.” 

“And I never got to tell you that I was sorry about that. About all of it.”

“I know that, now. But that doesn’t change things for me.” 

He nodded, looking down at her bare knee. “I brought Miranda because you were bringing Luke. I didn’t want you to think that I wasn’t over Connie. Because I am. I’m happy for her and Declan.” 

“But you wanted to...what? Convince me to give it another go now that you’re single again? It’s been two years. I’ve been with Luke for over a year now. You’ve been seeing Miranda for some time now. I’m conf--” 

“I’m Miranda’s flavor of the month.” Gwen’s eyebrows rose at his confession. Blake shrugged, “If I was younger, it would bother me, but I’m not, and she’s just trying to get ahead in her career...Luke is...Luke is who you choose right now. But until he’s who you choose forever, I have to make myself stop on that street, and I have to say somethin’ worth risking you being gone for good.” 

“You like taking risks.” She stated.

“So do you.” He retorted. Everything she wore was a risk, everything she recorded or wrote was a chance, every moment she gave him the time of day was a probability. 

Gwen sat back a little on her stool. “You know, sooner or later…” She took a breath, taking him in, keeping the words she was going to say for herself. “You really wear that shirt.” 

Blake’s face twisted handsomely, knowingly. “That’s not what you were about to say.” 

Gwen leaned forward suddenly, invading his personal space. “Remember that night in Nashville when you walked me back to The Beverly?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Sadie said you barely took your eyes off me as we all talked.” 

“Oh she did, did she?” He asked, leaning even closer to her. Gwen could feel his breath fan the side of her cheek.

“You didn’t touch me, though. Not even an arm thrown around my shoulder. Didn’t even try to hold my hand. Most guys would...most musicians do.” 

“Were you disappointed I didn’t?” 

“No. I was falling in love with you. I don’t think it would have happened if you were any other way than what you were.” 

“I wouldn’t have dreamed of being any other way with you, at least not at first.” 

She smiled. “What were you going to do with me if I hadn’t gone up to my room? If I had told you that I wanted to spend the rest of the night with you?” 

“I don’t think I’d worked that part out, yet. All I knew was that I liked you and I didn’t wanna leave you there and never see you again.” He revealed, eyes glancing down to her mouth.

“Then you gave Hayden her dream job and practically forced me to come up to Nashville a month later.” 

“And then I kidnapped you and took you on my tour and made you write songs with me. I remember it very well.” 

Gwen laughed, softly, memories flashing behind her eyes. “I couldn’t believe it, then. By that time I had been thinking about you a lot, wondering if I was crazy, listening to my parents saying it was a bad idea.” 

“Your folks always loved me.” 

“Not at first.” She reminded him. At first, he was the boy who took their little girl away, the boy who disrupted her education and her life back home. Then he became the man who made her a woman, a mother, a fighter, a beloved artist.

“No, not at first.” He agreed. 

“They still love you, you know.” She told him. 

“Really?” 

She nodded. “You could have disappeared completely after the divorce. Could have ran off and lived with your new family, but you and Connie made sure we were always on the same page, that the girls were always included. You never argued with me about them staying in L.A. either...You never tried to challenge me as a mother. I appreciated that more than you knew.” 

He nodded, eyes glazing over. “You know...when I think about it...I think what we needed back then was a timeout. I know we didn’t give ourselves a break to just...work it out, tell each other how we felt. I turned to other things instead of just turning to you, the one person I knew who could make it better, and I don’t know why that is.” 

“You’re asking questions that don’t really matter anymore...because the answers don’t change anything.”

“No, but I wish they did.”

_ Me too. _

There was an inevitable pause that fell over them, like a cloud dropping from the sky. They had said all that was needed, even though there was more that  _ wanted  _ to be said, had to be heard. But that would have to wait for another time, because Gwen promised herself a long time ago that when it came to Blake, she’d only give as much as she wanted to--no more, and no less.

Gwen took her last sip of wine, watching closely as Blake felt the end drawing near. 

“You really do wear that dress.” He complimented. 

She smiled. “Blue eyes, blue jacket.” 

Blake grinned, nodding his acquiescence. 

Gwen stood up then, brushing soft hands down the middle of her stomach. She could feel the eyes of the men earlier returning to her slim frame. Blake’s jaw tightened. She saw his hands move, as if on reflex, to snake them around her skin, pull her closer, make sure she was protected and spoken for. 

And she was, just not by him, not anymore. 

“I’ll see you at the rehearsal.” She prompted.

Blake’s eyes left the corner, squinting slightly up at her as he remained seated. “Yeah.” 

The mother of three nodded, turning slowly, as if waiting for him to say something else to make her stay. 

He probably felt like he already pushed his luck enough, and regretfully, Gwen had to agree. 

➣➣➣ 

“Tomorrow is going to feel like a whole different world.” 

Gwen thumbed across her mouth and moved so the bar stool faintly creaked under her weight. She grinned over to Sadie and nodded, attention going right back to the dance floor, where Blake was twirling Lennon around in a circle, the pair swaying slightly together to the music. 

“It’s like a dream,” Gwen murmured, her words coming out a hair softer than she’d intended them to. 

“The best dream.” Sadie reassured.

Gwen’s eyes walk through the memories of Lennon and Marli, ten years old, little girls still waist-high and holding sparklers that showered gold as they danced down the driveway through the smoke-scented dark on Independence Day. Blake would have thrown a huge cookout. They would have been one happy family. 

Sitting there now, enjoying the rehearsal dinner as much as she could, it almost felt like they were one.

Gwen sighed and looked back to her friend. Sadie had arrived a couple of hours earlier, just in time to accompany the pop singer tonight.

“You don’t think they’re too young?” She asked the brunette. 

Sadie frowned. “You’re always too young or too old to be in love. Life is weird like that. I think they’re just trying to live the best they can and found two guys willing enough to do the same.” 

“I don’t know. I feel like their hearts aren’t completely in it.” Gwen revealed quietly.

“The girls?” 

“No. I mean Keen is...I do think he loves Marli. But Oliver...I feel like he cares about Lennon deeply but he’s not  _ deeply _ in love with her. Am I crazy?” 

Sadie’s eyes grew concerned. “What do you mean? Did something happen?” 

Gwen shook her head. “Hayden and Jonathan just...they put it in my head that Layla is in love with Oliver and that he might feel something back for her and I just...I can’t help but believe them.” 

“...Well...Layla has always looked up to Oliver, ever since she was little. Sometimes we have crushes on people we hope to be like someday. That doesn’t mean she’s in love with him. And besides, I’ve seen Oliver with Lennon. He worships the ground that girl walks on.” 

“I think we all do.” Gwen half joked. Sadie laughed and shook her head. 

“I wouldn’t worry. It’s just pre-wedding jitters.” Her longtime friend assured her.

Gwen nodded, eyes going back to the dance floor. Blake was now holding Miranda, and she had to swallow down the lump in her throat and look away before she choked on something bitter and frustrating. 

Sadie’s eyes followed her friend’s. “They look cute together.” 

Gwen snorted, hating and loving the way her friend knew her so well. “We had a talk earlier.” 

“Really? Like a  _ talk  _ talk?” 

Gwen nodded. “He wants to get back together.” Sadie’s eyes grew wide, her cheshire grin back in full force. “I mean...it makes sense doesn’t it? We were together, we broke up, he remarried, I didn’t...now he’s single again. At least, that’s what he tells me. Him and Miranda aren’t anything serious...so...he’s single.” 

“But you’re not…” 

Gwen nodded, seeing Luke’s kind, grey-blue eyes right in front of her. He would be by her side tomorrow, and she wasn’t sure if she was excited or torn by the prospect of his company. 

“But he doesn’t see a ring on my finger yet. For the first time in... _ years... _ we’re both available.” 

“As in...not tied to someone else by law or God.” Sadie clarified. 

The mother of three nodded. Sadie’s grey eyes sharpened on her friend’s profile. 

“And what do you think of that?” She asked. 

Gwen shrugged. “I think that I’ve been down that road once. I’d be a fool to visit it again...and I love Luke. He’s a good man. My future feels secure with him in it. Blake is nothing but uncertainty.”

“Good girl.” Sadie approved, making the pop singer smirk. 

“Yeah...that’s me. Gwen Stefani, always the good girl. Mines her manners, goes to church on Sundays, and takes care of her daughters.” 

Sadie’s smile faltered. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

Gwen sighed. “I know.” 

“...Is it upsetting?...seeing him with her?” Saide asked, hesitantly. 

Gwen licked her lips, eyes trailing the slope of her ex husband’s mouth. “...they’re too close to be called friends...but not close enough to be called something more.”

“Do you almost wish they were?” 

“I wish he hadn’t said anything this weekend.” Gwen stated with finality, effectively ending the conversation. 

She finally tore her eyes away from the couple and over to her daughter’s table. Layla was sitting by herself, eyes trained on her sister and Oliver in the middle of the floor, dancing together. 

Gwen sighed and buried that small wave of fear and anxiety for her girls down with the small spark of interest she still held for Blake. 

Because she knew neither would help this wedding take off without a hitch. 

➣➣➣

Gwen pocketed her phone with a sigh. It had been her second attempt at reaching Luke. He could be sleeping by now, or stuck on some important call. The last time she heard from him was before the rehearsal dinner started. He texted her to ask how Colt was doing. She had reassured him that his son was still having a good time, albeit still keeping his distance from her. It wasn’t like it particularly bothered her, but Gwen prided herself on being very likable, and the fact that her boyfriend’s son didn’t exactly, had set Gwen’s teeth on edge. 

She just had to be patient. Colt was a teenage boy who was very close to his own mother, Tess. He despised the fact that his father walked out on her, and would have probably hated any woman who came after the woman he held in such high regard. 

Gwen put it to the back of her mind for now and followed the subtle breeze coming from the outdoor terrace. True to his word, Blake let the girls have a bonfire after the rehearsal. Most of the guests had already turned in for the night, including the younger kids, which Gwen was thankful for. Colt was safe and sound in his own room, something Luke would be grateful for as well. 

But the remainder of the party was currently huddled around thick, charred, cuts of wood, planted in the dead of night, in the blistering heat of Santa Fe. Gwen looked around the group for a place to sit. There was an open seat beside Keen, who was sitting with Marli, Lennon, and Oliver. Next to them was Connie and Declan, then Jonathan and Hayden. On the other side of the campfire was Sadie, Scarlett, William, and Maisy. There was a seat left open on Scott’s left side, and Paisley’s, Blake’s band leader. On her ex-husband’s right sat Layla, but on the other side, was an empty space. There was no Miranda. And as his eyes caught her abruptly over the crackle of the fire, his hands faltering in their guitar playing, Gwen knew that he had purposely left the spot for her. 

Whether he was just bold or stupid, Gwen fell for both, and made her way to his side. She reasoned it was because she wanted to be closer to the fire, to the music, but she knew she was kidding herself. Sadie knew it too, if the look she gave her best friend was any indication.

_ Red lights are flashing on the highway. I wonder if we're going to ever get home. I wonder if we're going to ever get home tonight.  _

Gwen was surprised to hear Marli start singing. But as soon as her daughter’s crisp and lovely voice filtered through the air, Gwen relaxed, going as soft as the guitar strings Blake was strumming. 

_ Everywhere the water's getting rough. Your best intentions may not be enough. I wonder if we're going to ever get home tonight.  _

_ But if you break down. I'll drive out and find you. If you forget my love. I'll try to remind you, and stay by you. When it don't come easy. _

Marli always sang to Keen, reminding Gwen of days when that used to be her and Blake, reminding her that that would never be her and Luke, because he came from a different side of the music industry.

Luke Hill wasn’t a singer. He was a businessman. The force that drove sales and played with numbers, and smooth talked the creativity. Blake was the sale, he didn’t play with numbers, he invented them, and instead of smooth talking, he did what any great artist did, he poured his soul out every night to thousands of people, physically ripped his heart out of his chest just to get one lyric down on paper, abused his throat every day just to catch one perfect note, lived lifetimes in one just to have something to say at the end of the day, just for men like Luke to call it creativity and slap a price tag on it. 

She was being unfair. Because as much as Blake sacrificed for his art, his livelihood, Luke sacrificed too. He gave up time with Colt and her just to spend more of it with his artists. He invested money that sometimes he didn’t ever make back just because he believed in what an artist had to say, artists just like her and Blake. Without Luke, music would just be a passion without the lights and glamour. It’d be a way to cope, and heal, but there would be no big houses, no acres of land, no tours, no access to a world of people singing the same language as you. 

If Blake was the other side, Luke was the bridge to get there.

Gwen hadn’t noticed when the song ended, because it bled right into the next one, and the one after that. Eventually, Gwen succumbed to a beautiful night, surrounded by people with different stories and different messages, all relayed through the power of song. She’d been naive when she thought she could keep silent and enjoy the voices around her, because she was a prominent voice to all of them at the end of the day. Anything she had to say would be eagerly swallowed down with all the sugar and honey in the world. 

Gwen shook her head, refusing to give in so easily, but when Blake set his guitar down and asked her to sing something nobody had ever heard before, only one piece of poetry came to mind, and Gwen cleared her throat quietly before revealing it to that night sky that held the brightest of stars. 

_ In the twilight glow I see...Blue eyes crying in the rain. When we kissed goodbye and parted. I knew we'd never meet again. _

Gwen shifted ever so slightly closer to the man on her right as she sang without his music. 

_ Love is like a dying ember, and only memories remain. And through the ages I'll remember...Blue eyes crying in the rain. _

She was too scared to look over at him as her voice rolled over the hills in sorrowful waves.

_ Some day soon we’ll meet up yonder. And we'll walk hand-in-hand again. And through the ages I’ll remember...Blue eyes crying in the rain. _

Her hand went to her heart and her head rose as she whispered out the final notes.

_ Blue eyes crying in the rain. _

Silence rarely followed her performances. It was either screams, cheers, clapping, or a combination of all three after a song, but there in New Mexico, lit up by the flames of fire, familiar faces stared at her, some in wonder, others in awe, all in recognition. She sang from a place that had been loved and cast aside, maybe by the same hands, maybe even by her own, but it resonated with her family and friends, so she allowed the silence, in fact, welcomed it more than the noise. 

“We just might make a country artist out of you yet with songs like that.” Scott professed, breaking the quiet. 

Their bonfire crowd laughed, but mostly in confusion. Gwen smiled at the producer and wrapped her arms around the middle of her stomach, needing comfort. She wished then that Luke was there to give her some.

Beside her, Blake cleared his throat and picked up his guitar. To her surprise, he handed it over to Declan, relinquishing himself from playing duty. Connie’s husband accepted it willingly and prompted whoever to sing the next song. 

Gwen looked around, eyes catching Sadie’s. Her friend had a spark in her eyes, and raised her hand slightly to signal that she wanted to go next. 

“It’s called  _ “Too Far From You”,  _ do you know it?” She asked Declan. 

He nodded, not even pausing for a second to adjust the instrument in his lap as he strummed the opening chords to one of Sadie’s best selling songs. 

_ Some nights I don't sleep at all. I lie awake with my eyes closed. Some days I'm inside a cloud, so tired I just float around. _

_ And I'm lost again. I'm lost. Too far from you. _

Gwen fought down the itch to leave underneath her skin. It was a calculated move as far as she was concerned, because Sadie wrote the first half of this song...and Gwen wrote the rest. Sadie had written from a place from her childhood, a time when her parents had gone through such a messy and awful divorce. As a young girl, she was always so close to her father, that when he packed his bags and left, Sadie was left to pick up the pieces of her own broken heart, missing the first man she’d ever loved and trusted.

For Gwen, this song had been about her divorce, and how she felt in the aftermath of a love moving on without her, why she struggled for so long to heal herself in the process.

_ I thought time would fade your face. Was sure that others could erase what my heart felt so deep, it's bronzed. Now I don't know what's going on. _

_ And I'm lost again. I'm lost. Too far from you. _

Gwen couldn’t take it anymore. She slowly stood up, not wanting to cause a scene. But not able to stay any longer. 

Her legs carried her over the landscape, around the pool, until she was standing in the field, lit up at the edges by inground lights. Her arms returned to her midsection, gathering warmth, encouraging breath. Her lungs had suddenly tightened in her chest, but she willed the reason to only be the suffocating, stuffy, air and not the song her best friend was currently singing.

“You run off like that and people think somethin’s wrong.” 

She shook her head at Blake’s voice. Of course he’d follow her. 

Gwen turned around slowly, eyes taking him in. His jacket was gone, his shirt unbuttoned at the top like it had been before, and his curls had broken free from the precarious amounts of gel he put in for the night. But it was his eyes, bright and blue and uncertain, that caught her unaware.

“You coming after me probably doesn’t help their imaginations.” She said, finding her voice again. 

“I don’t care about their thoughts. I care about yours.” He told her honestly. 

Her arms tightened around her. “You shouldn’t.” 

“I know. But I can’t help it.” 

She nodded, turning around to face the empty grounds. There was only miles of grass, desert, and mountains to look at. Anything was better than falling into the grooves and curves of his handsome face.

“Tell me what you’re thinkin.” He spoke quietly, as if scared to disrupt her very line of thought. 

Gwen couldn’t help but smile while he couldn’t see.

“I just don’t like going down memory lane anymore...and this weekend, our friends and family, they remind me so much of things better left alone.” She murmured.

Gwen could feel him drawing closer, hearing his boots crunch the soft blades of grass under foot.

“What things?” He asked, voice as gentle as the subtle breeze in the air. 

“You know what things.” She parried. 

“This have to do with what I told you earlier?” 

Gwen finally turned around to face him, surprised at just how near he was to her now. She had to strain her neck to look at him properly. “You know it’s cruel…”

“Hoping you won’t marry Luke?” 

“No. Planting the seed in my head that if I do marry him, I’ll never be truly happy because he isn’t you.” 

“I never said--” 

“You made me listen to you. That’s all you had to do. You tell a woman that once loved you that if you both had tried to fix things instead of giving up, that you’re willing now to do what you should have done in the past, she’s going to believe you because there’s nothing more tempting in this world than a second chance that actually works out. But my second chance is with a man thousands of miles away from me waiting to see me tomorrow. And I’m here...with you...unsure about everything...this wedding, my little girls’ hearts, my own...I can’t fail at this again with you, and I can’t let our daughters down, and I can’t--I can’t  _ breathe  _ like this.”

Gwen could feel her breath coming short, her heart touching the outer layers of the walls she’d worked so hard to build to keep him out. If she ever allowed herself to fall to pieces, she would call this a panic attack, but she was a mother, and a famous celebrity, and the daughter of Dennis and Patti Stefani, so the only thing wrong with her then was an inability to draw a single breath.

Large hands enclosed around her arms suddenly, acting like gravity and bringing her back down to the present moment. Blue eyes, the same ones crying in the rain all those years ago, pierced her mind and her heart, and Gwen drew in a shaky breath.

“Listen to me,” Blake began quietly. “Those years without me...I know you’ve seen things that I couldn’t imagine, and done things I’d prefer you didn’t. But those years without you, made me the most doubtful man alive. Still, in all that time, there’s been one thing I’ve only ever been sure of….you.” 

Gwen’s breath hitched, and she flinched at the feather-soft touch of his fingertips gliding across her cheek. Blake pulled back, taking his hands off of her body completely. She averted her eyes, not risking seeing the disappointment or rejection she might find in them at her own reluctance.

“Hey, look at me.” He demanded. When she did, he sighed. “I’m not askin’ you for anythin’ here...when I say I love you, it’s not because I want you, or because I can’t have you. It has nothin’ to do with me...I love what you are...what you do...how you try. I see you as a mother first, a  _ good  _ mother. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength when it’s come to those girls. The only reason they’re able to love is because you showed them how.” 

A soft sound erupted from her throat then but it didn’t deter his confession. 

“I look at you a second time and see a woman. A woman at her worst and her best at times. And I understand exactly--with perfect clarity--what you are...you’re a hell of a woman, Gwen.” She couldn’t hold back her choked laugh, her watery smile. “You’re the best woman. You never fail, not in my eyes. And you breathe just fine because if you didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to either, but I am. Just knowing you’re out there, I can be okay. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you didn’t have a choice. That’s the one thing you do have here. Because even though you’re the one for me, I know I might not be the one for you.” 

Gwen shook her head. “I don’t want to be the one.” She said honestly. 

_ I’m yours, I’m Luke’s. I just want to be me.  _

“I don’t want to be this good lookin’ and rich but we all have crosses to bear.” He said, inserting warmth into his voice while trying to remain serious, and it only made her fall promptly into that endearing face, something she didn’t want to do in the first place. 

_ He’d always be the funniest guy in the room, always make me laugh without even trying. _

“I just don’t know how much I can still learn from you and not be by your side.” She confessed, because that’s what it boiled down to.

He’s taught her so many things, sometimes without even knowing, but she still couldn’t bring herself to get taught a lesson up close, not like before, where pain followed knowledge, and knowledge followed more pain.

To his credit, Blake shrugged. “Sometimes the person we learn the most from isn’t the person we get to end up with.” 

It sounded like he knew from experience, and Gwen’s eyes looked back to the bonfire, where Connie sat snuggled close to Declan.

“I guess you’re right.” 

It was his turn to nod. “I keep runnin’ out of words to make you stay.” Blake said, feeling another conversation coming to a close. 

“Or maybe I’m just running towards reasons to leave.”

“Old habits die hard.” He agreed. 

“Yes they do,” she admitted. 

It was twice now in one day that he had pushed his luck. 

As she left him standing there on the lawn, making her way slowly back to the bonfire, she hoped like hell he didn’t try a third, because her resolve was lessening, and she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t give in the next time around. He was showing her how much her heart beat for a second chance. Their postcards had gotten lost at some point in the mail, but there would always be 50 states, always more where the last few came from, always a second chance to see them find their destination.

_ Do we have one? _

  
  



	4. Postcard from Luke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> Welcome to the fourth chapter of Postcards.
> 
> Hope everyone is staying healthy.
> 
> Some beautiful reader asked me to include what songs I feature in this fic, so I'll start a list here, and update it every chapter if you guys want to give them a listen. 
> 
> Songs in this chapter:  
> I am California--John Craigie
> 
> 1\. What A Woman Wants To Hear--Anderson East  
> 2\. Don't Make 'Em Like You No More--Riley Smith  
> 3\. Keep Comin' Back--Charles Esten  
> 4\. Blind--Aubrey Peeples  
> 5\. Don't Forsake Me--Duffy  
> 6\. Forever and Ever, Amen--Randy Travis  
> 7\. No One Will Ever Love You--Connie Britton, Charles Esten  
> 8\. It's Five O'Clock Somewhere--Alan Jackson, Jimmy Buffett  
> 9\. You Ain't Dolly--Ashley Monroe, Blake Shelton  
> 10\. I Will Fall--Clare Bowen, Sam Palladio  
> 11\. Bathroom Sink--Miranda Lambert  
> 12\. Someone Like You--Adele  
> 13\. When It Don't Come Easy--Patty Griffin  
> 14\. Blue Eyes Crying In the Rain--Eva Cassidy  
> 15\. Too Far From You--Aubrey Peeples
> 
> I hope you're intrigued by this one.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> ➣➣➣

**Santa Fe, New Mexico** __

Luke didn’t want her making the drive up to the airport to pick him up. 

If she was sane, she’d be eternally grateful to him. It was such a long endeavour, and leaving the luxury of the resort, that had suddenly begun to fill up with friends and family from both sides of the Shelton/Stefani clan, didn’t sound at all appealing. 

She just missed him. That was all.

In a few more hours, she’d have her arms wrapped around his solid frame. She’d be able to look into those soft blue eyes and see the exhaustion, but unwavering adoration, that Luke always held for her. It would be a welcome sight.

Until then, she’d have to pass the time catching up with old friends, and relatives she hadn’t seen since the holidays. But it was how she found him like this, outside by the pool, strumming his cherry wine Gibson, sipping on a club soda. 

Hayden and Jonathan were keeping her company as she conversed with her aunts and uncles, and even some of Blake’s cousins. They had grabbed their drinks and went out to soak up some of the sunlight, enjoying the way the kids splashed around in the water, including her own, when she spotted Blake from afar, and couldn’t help but make her excuses to go over and talk to him. 

Hayden smirked at her as she did, but Gwen ignored her longtime friend. It had been a whole night and morning since their conversation in the dark. Gwen had stayed up for hours in her room, mulling over everything that was said, anything that was felt. She understood the choice that had been given to her, and even felt confident in her answer, but the question of her future was at best, uncertain. Either way she went, there was no clear or definitive narrative. For the first time in her life, Gwen couldn’t look ahead and say with all the confidence in the world that she would be okay, that she would come out the other side with all her pieces intact. 

“That sounds pretty.” She voiced, softly, afraid of startling Blake as she neared his hunched form. 

She should have known better. Somewhere deep down, she knew Blake was always prepared for her to come back into his life, in whatever way she chose. It was her that was always caught off guard, that much was apparent. 

He turned slightly in the pool chair, just enough to look up at her and squint in the sun. His handsome features were enhanced by the light, strong jaw, perfectly sloped nose, eyes as blue as the sky up above. 

“Started writin’ it an hour ago.” He told her, eyes going back to the paper by his hip.

Gwen’s eyebrows raised. “Blake Shelton writing a song for himself? Your world is ending.” She teased. 

“Ha ha. Very funny.” 

Gwen grinned and took a seat across from him on the other pool chair. Her eyes went to his dark shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and his swimming shorts. 

“Is it just a one-off?” She asked. 

He shook his head. “Scott had someone from the studio send over a couple of demos for the album...I didn’t like anythin’ I heard.” He shrugged then, biting his guitar pick. “Figured I’d take a stab at it myself. Came up with this.” 

Gwen looked down at the pad of paper, seeing his messy scrawl. 

“Turns out you’re even a greater muse than you were before.” He revealed, quietly. 

The mother of three glanced at him briefly, before closing her eyes. “Are you going to play it for me?” She asked, opening them again. 

Blake bit his bottom lip. “You don’t wanna hear this one.”

She frowned. “Why not?” 

“Because it’s...it’ll just make you mad at me...and that’s the last thing I want right now.”

Gwen shifted slightly. “What are you cursing me to hell?” 

He chuckled, clutching the guitar tighter. “No...I’m...I’m dealin’ with rejection.” 

The sting she felt then might as well have been the one he felt last night. She hadn’t rejected him. She wouldn’t have put it like that. She just couldn’t give him what he wanted, but that didn’t mean she was forsaking him, she was just disappointing him. Maybe there was no difference between the two after all. 

“I didn’t give you a flat out no.” She defended, not knowing why she did in the first place. She thought she had already made up her mind. It would be Luke she’d be leaving New Mexico with. It’d be California she’d be coming home to.

“Yeah but a  _ yes... _ went very much unsaid.” He replied, not bitterly or angry, just resigned. 

Gwen sighed. “I just...I can’t see it. I can’t  _ risk  _ it.” 

“Even though part of you wants to?” 

“Of course a part of me will always want to. But that doesn’t mean I should. Not when I’m happy right now. Not when I have nothing I want to give up. I’d have to change everything...make room where there isn’t any. My life in California is nice. It’s what I want. ” 

He nodded, picking at a string loosely. “Well there it goes. I guess you and I just see the truth differently.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He sighed. “Nothin’ Gwen.” 

He made a move to gather his things but Gwen stopped him with a hand on his arm. “No tell me. What am I not getting?” 

His eyes sharpened, the blue in them fading. “I can’t tell you.” 

“Why? Because you think I’ll be mad at you?”

“...Because I think I’ll be right, and you’ll still be on your way...and because being the only one with the correct answer doesn’t mean shit if there ain’t nobody in the room to be wrong. It wouldn’t matter if you knew. You’ve made that clear, and I promised I wouldn’t push.” 

But you’re not pulling either, she thought. 

“Will you at least sing me the song?” She asked, not wanting things to end like that, abruptly and without a single trace of happiness in either of their memories. 

Blake couldn’t help the disbelief that flashed across his face. “I really mean it when I say you don’t want to hear it.” 

“I thought you were done making decisions for me?” 

He huffed out a breath. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t do it here.” He said, causing them both to look around. 

There was no one specifically looking right at them but she understood what he was implying. It was too open, too crowded, and clearly, what he had to say, couldn’t be heard with their family and friends only a few feet away. It would be too loud, with the water splashing, the drinks clinking, the chatter growing in volume by the second. 

“We can go somewhere else.” Gwen suggested. 

Blake tilted his head. “Where?” 

“The field.” 

_ Where we were last night. Where we’ll most likely remain once this wedding is over and we go our separate ways. The only place we can go. _

Blake thought about it for a moment before nodding, standing with his guitar and paper. Gwen followed after him, willing his legs to grow shorter so that she might have a fighting chance of keeping stride with the man she’s never been able to keep by her side her whole life. And how ironic was that? There he was all about offering to be right there, and she wouldn’t let him.

The field was far better in the light. It gave way to an incredible view of those trees and mountains, to that awfully bright sky, and those perfect birds flying up ahead. Blake sat down in the grass without any warning, stopping Gwen in her tracks right behind him. She toed around her ex-husband, sitting carefully in front of him. 

He did nothing for a moment other than stare down at his lyrics. He finally dragged the lead over the paper, a delicate flourish shooting across the top as he titled the song. He put very little pressure into the movement. Almost as if he was applying that same pressure on her heart, trying desperately to remain soft, so as not to hurt her, but hard enough to make his words permanent, to make her want to change her mind. 

He took up his guitar in his lap and strummed lightly. He looked up at her suddenly, but said nothing as he continued to play, and then finally, sang. 

_ You try to drown your sorrows, shouldn’t taught them how to swim, and now you are right back where you began. Winter skies approaching, all alone in the wasteland. Alone is the only way that they let you in. _

Gwen’s eyes grew heavier at his words, but they were too vague for her to decipher anything just yet. 

_ So drink all my wine, cut all my trees. Make love on my beaches, smoke all my weed. I am California, can’t you see? Wherever you roam, you’ll always want me. _

Gwen understood then his earlier lyrics, his earlier comments. He felt that she was punishing him by rejecting his proposal, and if she was hurting Blake, then she was hurting herself in the process. For years she allowed her pain to dictate her next move, and if she thought for even a second that she could push that to the side and make this decision to leave him behind on her own, then she was poorly mistaken, because she would always lead with the pain he caused her, and nothing more. This he believed wholeheartedly as their one simple truth. She let her fears get the best of her, and now they were getting the best of them, but wherever she went, most importantly, wherever she thought she could hide, she couldn’t ever be rid of him, because she’d never really want to. 

He was California. Big and waiting and desperate to see her return. 

_ We struggle with our lovers, we don’t know what to let in. 'Cause the new ones pay for the old ones sins. Blinded by your shadows, faded on your love. You don’t know how deep you are till you get pulled back up. _

_ So drink all my wine, cut all my trees. Make love on my beaches, smoke all my weed. I am California, can’t you see? Wherever you roam, you’ll always want me. _

Gwen felt her breath grow labored. He didn’t see how different they were. Where she was supposed to be like him and he was supposed to be like her. Because he was too fluid. He didn’t take any shape or form, like water. He soaked up everything and gave little back. Not like her. Where she was solid but forgiving, distant and yet open. She was hard clay, and he was every blue ocean.

When he gets to her, she absorbs all of him up. And then slowly, all her pieces start to break apart, and before she knows it, she’s floating around in his love, and his hate, and his pain, and his mistakes, until there’s nothing left of her and there’s simply too much of him. 

_ Yeah, dig all my gold, soak in my springs. Conquer my mountains if that’s what you need. I am California, can’t you see? Wherever you roam, you’ll always want me.  _

_ You’ll always want me _

_ You’ll always want me _

_ You’ll always want me _

He repeated it over and over again, and Gwen knew that he was right.

_ You’ll always want him. You’ll always want him. You’ll always want him. _

Gwen stood up with the overwhelming urge to leave him, to give his beautiful blue eyes the familiar sight of her back. But something kept her there, feeling like that postcard she found in his back pocket that night, worn and overlooked, but with the prettiest image of Anaheim she’d ever seen. Something about it broke her down, tore her apart, but loved her fervently.

Blake craned his neck to meet her gaze. “Was I right?” 

His voice was soft, feather-like. It made her heart turn to mush. 

“About what?” She was afraid to even ask. 

“Are you still on your way?”  _ Out the door, across the country, without me,  _ all went unspoken.

“Where would you have me go?” She answered instead with a question of her own. 

Blake set his guitar aside but didn’t move to stand up. “Everywhere. Anywhere. Nowhere. I don’t care, Gwen, just take me with you when you do.”

Lesser women would have swooned. The kind that watched all those sappy love movies and dreamed out being the princess in the tallest tower. But not Gwen. She could separate fiction from reality, nightmares disguised as dreams, even towers from prisons. She didn’t want to want him. She didn’t want California to be another place where she couldn’t escape him. Everything before that weekend had been perfect, and now…

“You said you wouldn’t push.” She reminded him. 

He sighed, then finally stood up. She craned her neck to keep his gaze now that he was above her again.

“I’m not...I’m tryin’ to draw you closer, Gwen.” 

_ That  _ made her swoon, made her the girl in the movies, the princess in the tower, the forty-something-year old dreamer. That made her Gwen, Blake’s girl, Blake’s old lady, Blake’s old ball and chain, Blake’s everything.

A hand settled on her side, warming her ribs, setting her heart on fire. 

“What? I’m just supposed to give up everything for you?” She asked, eyes watering against her wishes. “Do I need to remind you that you were married to Connie for  _ years _ ? You didn’t want me in all that time and now that I  _ finally _ have somebody to start a life with you want to come back and ruin it all.” 

Her voice grew louder, her insides shook harshly, rattling every bone and muscle in her body. The second hand that fell upon the side of her face had her startled, shocked in place until however long Blake decided to set her free.

Like the princess in the tower. 

“I know it feels like that, and there isn’t anything I can say to change your mind. All I can say is that I’m sorry, that I never stopped wanting you, and that I love you, Gwen.” 

_ Love me less,  _ she wanted to say, but she would do as well to tell him to grow a new heart, if only to have one left after she broke the first one.

“Luke is a good man. He doesn’t deserve to be abandoned like that. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt.” She reminded him, because either it was his heart, or Luke’s, that would slip from her palms, and she wanted neither tragedy to befall upon them. 

Blake nodded. “Then don’t.” 

Meaning,  _ is it better to love and have lost or not love at all? _ Was it the kind thing to do, to love Luke and cut him loose before he realizes she never loved him at all, just taking and taking, never really giving anything back. Wasn’t she better than that? 

_ But I do love Luke. I love him so much that the thought of leaving him makes me sick. Not now, not later...not ever. _

Gwen’s hand tightened around his own where it held her cheek delicately. “It’s a pretty song. You’re a beautiful man...and I’m sure we could have had a lovely life...”

“But you’re goin’ back to California.” He finished, eyes unchanging, devotion unwavering. 

Gwen reached up on her tippy toes to kiss the corner of his mouth chastely. The touch sent a spark down her spine, but she knew that anything that would come of it would be a forest fire of pain. It always was with him. 

Gwen pulled back, eyes closed, breath slow. “I have to go.” She whispered, not liking the way his hands slipped from her body. 

Without looking back, the mother of three walked steadily across the field, away from Blake Shelton, away from her past, and right into her future. 

Her heart shouldn’t have felt like that old postcard, worn and overlooked, because as tired as it was, it never went unnoticed.  __

➣➣➣ 

“You seem distracted.” 

Gwen looked away from the window, back to the resort’s little cafe. It was teeming with life, every table full and seemingly engaged in fascinating conversation. 

The singer was having a late lunch with Luke and their kids. All except for Lennon, who had booked herself a massage before the ceremony, and Keen, who took up Declan’s offer for an all boys golf match.

Remembering Luke’s words, Gwen turned to him, smiling as she watched him gulp down his glass of freshly-squeezed orange juice in one go. She ordered him another in seconds, which earned her a soft kiss to her neck.

“I’m okay. Thinking about the wedding.” She said pointedly, eyes going to a smirking Marli, and a sulking Layla and Colt. Oliver was oblivious, digging into a stack of blueberry pancakes.

“How was the flight over, Luke?” Marli asked, dutifully.

Luke wiped at his mouth. “It was good. Not too bad. Are you excited about finally becoming a married woman?” 

Marli nodded, eyes glossing over. “Keen is like a dream come true. I can’t wait to start our life back in Nashville together.”

“What about you Oliver?” Luke threw the question over to the young man.

He swallowed harshly. “I’m the luckiest man on earth.” His eyes went briefly around the table, a tactic to be able to look at Layla without being too obvious.

Gwen’s hand tightened on Luke’s thigh.

“Well, we have a couple of hours to kill before we have to start getting ready. I was looking up places to sight-see. There’s a place I wanna take you.” Luke told her, gesturing for the bill. 

Gwen’s eyes widened. “Right now?”

Luke nodded. “We’ll see you kids at the wedding.” He stood up, ruffling his son’s hair, before wrapping an arm around her when she followed after him.

“What’s the rush?” She asked him, fingers entwined with his as he took the lead outside and to the waiting cab. 

“No rush. But we probably won’t have time tomorrow to do this.” 

Gwen frowned but didn’t question him as she sat beside him.

The first half of the drive was silent, and Gwen felt the weekend’s events nagging at the back of her head. She had been contemplating revealing Blake’s words and feelings to Luke, but something stopped her every time. 

She felt like--and she knew it was stupid to feel that way--but she felt like it was Blake’s business alone, and if she had accepted his love, his proposal, then it would most certainly become Luke’s, but she hadn’t. Gwen was sure Blake wouldn’t like it much, her exposing his feelings for her to the man she rejected him for. Come to think of it, she was positive that telling Luke that Blake had tried and failed, would be the end of their somewhat peaceful co-existence. Besides, she didn’t want the headache. 

Luke was a patient man, but he was also very possessive. He didn’t think much about Blake, because he was always several states away and off her mind, but if that ever changed, he wouldn’t be as acceptable. 

Gwen was surprised when the cab pulled into a parking lot only twenty minutes later. They had arrived at a sort of farmer’s market with rolling hills surrounding them at every turn. 

“Where are we?” 

Luke got out of the car, jogging around to the other side to open her door for her. His suit was sticking to his skin in the summer heat, making her smile as she saw the lines of his muscled torso. 

“There’s a little chapel down the hill. It’s kind of a tourist thing...supposed to be beautiful, unlike anything you’ve ever seen.” He replied, taking her hand. 

Gwen’s eyes grew excited as they walked down a gentle hill that led into a valley. The trees grew just a tad bit taller there than the surrounding area. Up ahead, they saw a chapel with a courtyard in the front and tourists milling around. 

“You did always know how to surprise me.” She murmured. It was one of the things she loved about him. She could tell him one thing in passing and he would remember it forever. One evening long ago, sitting outside on her home terrace, she whispered softly how much she loved cathedral architecture. That extended to chapels, churches, and everything else related to places of worship. She just found the buildings to be so fascinating, so safe, so inviting. Anywhere she travelled, she made it a point to go searching for any one of those places.

“They say people come here for healing.” Luke murmured. “There’s a shop beside it, too. You can buy candles and lockets. Which one do you want to go to first?” 

Gwen contemplated the question for a moment. She really wanted to see the inside of the chapel but she also wanted to light a candle when she did. “Let’s go to the store.”

Luke nodded, wrapping an arm around her. 

The store was full of kitsch, silver jewelry in glass cases, woven baskets and little clay dolls. When they passed by the postcards up at the front counter, Gwen paused. 

Luke looked down at her, eyes following her gaze. He cleared his throat and released her from his embrace. “Do you want one?” 

_ Do you want one? _

She shook her head. “Not today.” 

He nodded, footsteps carrying him over to a row of candles. There were heart shaped ones, flowers, and even ones shaped like the human body. Gwen’s fingers toyed with the sunflower candles that were a vibrant shade of yellow. 

_ Why does he have to follow me here _ , she thought. 

Nonetheless, Gwen grabbed seven and allowed Luke to purchase them for her. 

They walked to the chapel and slipped into the dark room with the other tourists. They dipped their hands in the holy water before crossing the threshold. Luke led them to the altar, face serious, yet vulnerable. It was another thing she loved about him. How religious he was. How compatible both of their faiths were. Her parents always wanted her to find someone who believed in God as much as she did. Who wanted to live a certain way, create a certain life. 

Gwen lined her seven tapers next to each other, surrounded by more votive candles, letters and photos from strangers, even little stuffed animals and bracelets. 

She lit one candle for her mom and dad, who would have killed to be there right now, and would most likely be somewhat irritated when she told them once she got back to the resort. She lit another for her siblings, praying for their own families and children. The third was for Marli, the fourth for Lennon, wishing the same thing, a blessed union, a united marriage, the happiest of lives. The fifth candle was a prayer for Layla. She didn’t want to be too specific, lest she dive into things she was too cowardly to confront in the first place. The sixth was for Luke. She prayed for his health, and his love. 

The final candle was always intended for Blake. This place reminded her of how much faith he didn’t have in himself, but how much he had in her, in their girls. Now more than ever, he would need her prayers, even if he wouldn’t immediately or readily accept them.

Once she finished, she let Luke light his own. He only purchased three for himself. Probably one for his son, one for her, and the other for his sister. Luke’s parents had died long ago, and he really only had him and Cherry for as long as he could remember before Colt came into the picture. 

“I think this might be my favorite chapel so far.” Luke murmured, coming to her side. 

She smiled up at him. He wasn’t as tall as Blake but he still beat her by a couple of inches.

They stared at the candles for several minutes more before deciding it was time for them to leave. As they walked behind the chapel to get one last glimpse of this peaceful spot of dirt on this sinful earth, Gwen hugged Luke closer to her. 

“Thank you for taking me here.” 

He kissed the top of her head, squeezing her gently. 

They found a bench off to the side and sat down for a little rest. Gwen looked out at the garden they found themselves in. Compared to the rest of Santa Fe, this was all green land before her. Trees, grass, flowers, none of them dry in this summer heat. All moistened and wet and full of life. 

They sat there for an hour or so, staring out at the green and brown, watching tourists take pictures, write their names in the dirt, and eat flavoured tortillas from a nearby stand. Her and Luke exchanged easy conversation and benign memories of the past couple of days without each other. Gwen was happy. Well and truly happy in that moment. 

Right up to the point where Luke slid off the bench and crouched in front of her on one knee. He slid a small, black, velvet box from his dress pants, opening it slowly as his eyes looked at every single crevice and wrinkle and shade of blush on her face. 

“Gwen...I was gonna wait to do this...but that’s the problem with you. I can’t wait for the right moment because every moment with you feels right. Every second I spend with you...you make me so happy.” 

Gwen’s breath stopped, biding time somewhere in the middle of her chest as she stared down at him. 

“I want every moment from here on out to be you and me and nothing else. I want you to make forever right, because it would be so wrong without you in it…” 

His eyes were so full of hope, so soft with love, so eager with dreams. Just the right amount of each to utter ten perfect words to her. 

“Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” 

➣➣➣

Gwen’s cried more times in her life than she’d like to admit. But nothing,  _ nothing _ , came close to this moment. 

Her girls were standing before her, both in their vastly different wedding dresses, looking like something you only saw in heaven when you’ve lived a good life to get there. 

Marli stunned her in a romantic, ethereal, off the shoulder gown in a subtle lavender hue, with a corset bodice and layers of tulle on the skirt. It was something out of a fairytale, something so mature and gorgeous for her little girl. Her hair was straightened to perfection, left down to caress her bare shoulders. She wore no jewelry, except for the wedding ring on her finger. Her makeup was natural, highlighting every sharp curve of bone and those beautiful eyes. 

Lennon stood next to her, astonishing in her ivory, berta gown with vinework lace pattern, low v neck and back, long fitting sleeves, and a surreal cape. Her chapel train was gorgeous, along with her honey colored curly hair and nude eye makeup. Her wedding ring and a small silver locket in the shape of an L that she got from Blake when she was nine, was the only jewelry she wanted to complete the look. 

“You both look so beautiful.” Gwen gushed, wet eyes trained on every detail, every piece of glitter, and glam. 

“We’ve gotta thank Dad.” Lennon said, uncharacteristically, as she touched up a few bouncing curls in the mirror. 

“I’ll go get him.” Layla offered, wanting any chance to leave the room.

Gwen caught her by the wrist before she could disappear completely. She pulled her youngest to the door, keeping her voice to a low whisper. 

“You know you look just as beautiful, right?” Gwen asked her daughter, eyes roaming over her twobirds ginger maxi dress. It was the color of pink blossoms, and with her neat hair tied up into a gorgeous bun on the top of her head, Layla looked like an enchanted flower from the forest. 

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” Her daughter responded. 

“Hey, I’m being serious. I know you’re probably feeling a little left out right now.” 

Layla pulled her wrist back. “I’m fine, Mom.” 

Gwen let her walk out the door, eyebrows shooting up as she bumped right into Luke. He squeezed Layla’s shoulder in apology, and her youngest smiled half-heartedly at her mother’s boyfriend before continuing her quest to find Blake. 

Luke grinned at his fiance handsomely. “Aren’t you not supposed to show the bride, or in this case,  _ brides _ , up at their own wedding?” 

Gwen smiled down at her white heels. She dressed herself in a gown she had specifically made for the occasion. The top was crisp white and strapless, with a long, white, fluffy skirt that faded into a dark pink at the very bottom. It was textured to look like the bottom half was made out of flowers. With her soft, blonde hair pulled back into a slick, regal, high bun, and diamond earrings hanging from her ears, Gwen felt like a princess. 

_ Bad analogy. Don’t think about him. _

“Just wanted to follow the theme of the wedding.” She replied softly. They may be in the desert but her girls wanted a white wonderland, with soft pink and blue accents. Which was why she frowned when she noticed Luke’s dark green tie. 

“What in the world are you wearing?” She asked incredulously. 

“What?” He looked down at his suit. 

“That tie.” 

He grinned. “Colt’s wearing the same one.” 

She didn’t want to tell him that they’d be ruining the pictures so she just padded him lightly on the chest. He grabbed her hand suddenly, inspecting her fingers. 

“Where’s your ring?” He asked. 

Gwen shushed him, casting a glance over her shoulder at the girls. “I--I didn’t want to overshadow their big day. It’s in my clutch. I’ll wear it tomorrow.” 

Luke frowned for a moment before nodding. “That makes sense.” 

She smiled at him, about to invite him in to see the girls when Layla appeared the next moment with Blake at her side. Her youngest was holding onto her father’s arm tightly, as if she was preparing herself to lose him to Lennon and Marli and the madness surrounding the wedding that was about to take place at any moment. 

Gwen shuffled to the side as Layla re-entered the room, letting go of Blake as she did. Gwen’s ex-husband stopped before her and Luke, and the mother of three held her breath. 

The country star was wearing an all black suit, with just his dress shirt a stark white. His black cowboy boots were shiny and new, and the striped dark blue and midnight tie hanging around his neck matched perfectly with the boys’ suits. His salt and pepper hair was perfectly curled and styled back, making him look younger somehow. He stood so tall and handsome that Gwen was reminded of the day he stood before her and said  _ I do _ at their own wedding.

“You clean up nice, Shelton. How the hell are you?” Luke greeted, shaking Blake’s hand.

Blake’s eyes were bright as he took her boyfriend-- _ fiance _ \--in. His smile was blinding. “Scared shitless, actually. Didn’t think I’d ever marry both my daughters off in the same weekend.” 

Luke chuckled. “Why I’m eternally grateful that God gave me a son.” 

The two men pulled their hands away, grinning at one another genuinely. For her part, Gwen smiled prettily. She should be happy that her ex-husband and soon-to-be-husband always got on so swimmingly, but something stopped her from really enjoying the moment. She couldn’t stomach the fact that Blake was just pouring his heart out to her a couple hours ago and now he was standing before them like he never uttered a single word of his affections to her.

“Alright buddy. I’m gonna prepare myself to walk those princesses down the aisle. Try to keep from cryin’ like a little baby.” Blake joked.

“Hey, they’re placing bets out there whether you’re gonna be a blubbering mess. I got money on a dry eye.” Luke teased, good naturedly. 

“Ah shit. You might as well fork over that cash now.” Blake replied, patting him on the shoulder as he walked by them into the room. 

Luke smiled after him. She was glad he was in such a good mood because she had a feeling Blake wasn’t in much of one. 

“I’ll leave you guys to some family time.” Luke told her, squeezing her left hand.

Gwen thanked him with a peck on the lips, careful to not smudge her lip gloss or get any on him. 

She had just walked back into the room right at the precise moment Blake picked up the crystal decanter off the complimentary bar cart in the corner. The liquid was brown, and definitely not alcohol free. The sight momentarily shocked her. 

“Dad, you’re drinking?” Layla asked, noticing his actions, wanting to inquire like her mother. 

Blake replaced the crystal stopper in the decanter with a sigh. “It’s one drink. I need one before we go down that aisle. My hands are shakin’ like a bitch, look.” He gestured to them, and sure enough, his skin looked like it was crawling with something underneath. 

“Is that such a good idea?” Gwen voiced, quiet and unsure, like she had reverted back into his worried wife. 

“Appreciate the concern Gwen but my drinkin’ habits aren’t any of your business.” 

It stung. He was indirectly punishing her for not giving in to him, and what’s worse, was that he could do it in such a way that would make her have to drop any argument because they were in front of the kids.

“I think it’s fine. I’ll even have one with you, Dad.” Lennon announced, trying to defuse the situation. She let Blake pour her a stiff brandy and the two of them toasted. Marli and Layla looked at their mother unsure but Gwen had to put a smile on her face, a mask, a front, because that’s what you do when you have children. You protect them. 

Blake poured another glass for himself despite Lennon refusing a second. He drank the contents in one large swallow and breathed heavily out of his nose once the distilled wine passed smoothly. He was just pouring a third when there was a knock at the door. Scarlett, Maisy, and Billie came in, dressed in their bridesmaids gowns. 

“Are we all set in here?” Scarlett asked, smiling as she took in the sight of her best friend. Lennon walked over to the girls, grabbing for Scarlett’s hand. 

Marli followed suit, along with Layla. 

“Brandon said he’s ready to start whenever you guys are. The guests are all seated.” Maisy informed them. 

“Wait, let’s take a couple of pictures in the hall just for us.” Marli proposed, clearly meaning only their friends and Layla. 

The girls agreed excitedly, disappearing from the room in a flourish. It left her and Blake suddenly alone, alone with his demons...her regrets. But she wouldn’t indulge him, and she knew he wouldn’t respond the way she wanted him to if she did.

Instead, Gwen went to the mirror, checking herself one last time, making sure everything about her was perfect. She didn’t want anything to spoil her girls’ big day.

As she tended to her appearance, she could feel hard eyes on her. She didn’t bother looking over her shoulder. Instead, Gwen turned around slowly, catching Blake’s unwavering gaze, and as he took in the sight of her face, she could hear his voice from so long ago, whispering in her ear on the night of their honeymoon. 

Something in both of their guts twisted.

She was immediately weary when his feet travelled across the room and over to her. He slipped his right hand into his coat to retrieve a box from his breast pocket. His feet stopped just right before her, and he held out the box, saying nothing.

Gwen prayed and wished like hell that it wasn’t a ring. 

_ Please, God. I can’t be proposed to twice in one day, especially not the evening my daughters are supposed to get married themselves.  _

Gwen held her breath as she carefully took the box from his hands. Opening it hesitantly, she was relieved and surprised to see a charm in the center of the box. But Gwen wasn’t stupid, it was diamond encrusted with a twisting shape, and definitely the infinity symbol. She extracted the pendant with gentle hands, knowing it must have cost him a fortune. 

“Blake...it’s beautiful....is it for me?” Her eyes snapped to his. She couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was a gift for one of the girls, and he just wanted her opinion. 

“Do you remember the necklaces I used to get you every year for our anniversary?” He asked, quietly.

She nodded. How could she forget? 

“I was buying wedding presents for the girls. They each got a necklace. Lennon has an R, for Ray, she’s always wanted one. Marli a K, for Keen. I got Layla an O, for the Opry...and I got you this one.” 

Gwen’s fingers caressed the hard diamonds. “Why infinity?” 

“‘Cause that’s how long I’ll love you, whether I have you or not.” 

She wished he’d said some scathing remark and left instead because the next moment she looked up at him with all the youth in the world in her eyes and asked, “Will you put it on me?” 

The necklace was held out to him, and he accepted the dangling pendant from her fingers without any of his earlier discord.

The mother of three turned her back to him, feeling foolish as the sight of her exposed skin could feel his naked eye resting upon it. He placed the chain around her neck and, making a great effort not to allow his fingertips to brush against her skin, secured the clasp at the back of her neck. His fingers shook as the scent of her perfume washed over him, lavender and honey.

They both looked at the reflection of the necklace in the mirror. 

“It looks good on me.” She noted absentmindedly, tilting her head to the side, completely forgetting for a moment that this was a gift she shouldn’t be accepting because it came from a place that she had decided to give up, desert, and abandon.

“Of course it does. You’ve always looked good wearin’ my future.” Blake said, eyes meeting hers in the mirror. 

Her breath hitched, and she swallowed roughly.

“Blake…” 

“I know, I know. You choose him. I can live with that ‘till the day he puts a ring on your finger.”

She tensed but he hadn’t noticed because he backed away, back over to the bar cart. He downed his last brandy and ran a hand through his already perfect hair, gathering his wits about himself before he joined the little party out in the hallway, before he walked their daughters down the aisle. 

Gwen wanted to tell him then. The ring was just a couple of feet away, secured in her clutch. He would find out tomorrow anyways. 

_ Tell him. Don’t be a coward. Tell him. Hurt him...I can’t. I can leave him, but this will kill him.  _

“See you out there, pretty girl.” 

Gwen clutched the charm around her neck as he disappeared from the room. She could wear this necklace but not the ring. It should’ve been the other way around. 

But if it was, Gwen didn’t think she’d have the courage to walk out of that room.

She didn’t think she’d have the strength to wear anyone’s future. 

And by tomorrow, she’d be wearing two.


	5. Postcard from a Blue Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> Welcome to the fifth chapter of Postcards.
> 
> Hope everyone is staying healthy.
> 
> Songs in this chapter:  
> Blue Moon--The Mavericks
> 
> There are no lyrics in this chapter but this is the song playing during Blake and Gwen's dance.
> 
> I hope you're intrigued by this one.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> ➣➣➣

**Santa Fe, New Mexico** __

“That’s such a beautiful sight.” 

Gwen smiled at her mother’s words. She turned in her chair slightly, looking down the aisle, imprinting the memory of Blake in his suit, on both of his arms, two gorgeous young women wearing beautiful wedding gowns and pretty smiles. 

Luke squeezed her thigh in anticipation as the trio stopped before the officiate. Brandon, Blake’s manager, was dressed similarly to his client and friend, holding a worn bible, the cover leather bound and grey.

Keen’s smile split his face into two as he reached for his bride. Marli choked up slightly but recovered as her palm met his. She squeezed her father’s arm with her free hand as she left him, and Gwen could see how affected Blake was by it. He let her go. He’d have to eventually.

For the first time since she arrived in New Mexico, Oliver looked like a man desperately in love as his eyes fell upon her daughter. Lennon kissed her father on the cheek before taking her fiance’s hand, allowing the younger man to pull her close. 

Gwen’s eyes moved to Layla’s profile. Her youngest was sitting on the other side of her, to the left, holding a vacant chair for Blake as he left the aisle and returned to his seat. Layla’s face was impassive, holding and showing nothing. 

Gwen caught her ex’s gaze over their daughter’s head as he settled in. He smiled at her, and for a moment, there was no thought of them or Luke or what their life could be, it was about their daughters, about what their life had already been, and it was perfect. 

Brandon cleared his throat, eyes brewing with adoration for these young men and women. He watched all of their kids grow up since they were little babies, and it was something Gwen had been grateful for, despite not being as close to Kelly and Brandon as she liked to be. They were always Team Blake, as they should’ve been, but it still stung when she got divorced and looked around to see that her inner circle had dwindled in numbers significantly. 

“Welcome family, friends and loved ones. We are gathered today to celebrate the union of Lennon Ray Shelton and Oliver Michael James, as well as Marli Flynn Shelton and Keen Lucas Garrett. We are all here to support these commitments of love and to share the joy of these four, stunning, individuals as they choose to spend the rest of their lives together.” 

Gwen felt another squeeze to her leg, and tampered down the feeling of ambivalence.

It was a surreal sight, however, seeing her daughters married off, knowing that this was it. For years she spent preparing them for a life without her and Blake. They had to be independent, had to be confident within themselves that they’d make it through, that they’d find happiness out there for themselves. And she was sure that both of them had.

So when Brandon asked if there was anyone who saw any reason why her daughters and their fiances should not be wed, Gwen kept her mouth shut, and her left hand on Layla’s wrist, squeezing gently, kindly, almost desperately. 

In a lot of ways, Gwen compared Layla to her father. Her daughter wanted someone she shouldn't have, someone that would want her back if given half the chance. But Oliver was in love, he was. She could see that throughout the ceremony. It only proved how much alike he and Gwen were, because she loved Luke, and just as Oliver chose Lennon, she chose the man sitting to her right, squeezing her thigh lovingly. 

Once the rings were exchanged, the vows spoken, the pronouncement of man and wife proclaimed twice, Gwen was free to let Layla go, free to take a deep breath, ignoring the way it hurt when she breathed in Blake’s direction, because he was always staring back.

The reception kicked off with a medley of Michael Buble hits, the man himself all too eager to be the night’s music entertainment. The great thing about being an established artist was the other musician friends you made along the way, all of whom willingly took the stage and manded the microphone for a couple of their own love songs. 

Gwen could see how much it meant to the girls to have everyone’s love and support. They danced to their hearts’ content after dinner, after numerous speeches, and funny anecdotes.

The mother of three spent most of her time off the floor than on, choosing to converse with family and friends, instead. Luke had made himself comfortable at the table with her parents and siblings while she sat with Hayden and Jonathan, and a couple of Blake’s friends from Nashville.

Gwen was eyeing the slice of chocolate cake Jonathan left sitting in front of him when Sadie slid a chair across the floor and over to their table.

“Why didn’t you tell me you got engaged?” Sadie whispered frantically over the white noise of the reception chatter and loud music. 

Gwen straightened in her seat, heart suddenly pounding. “How did you find out about that?”

“Luke told me while I was getting a drink at the bar. He’s pretty excited.” 

“I told him not to say anything.” 

“Because you don’t really want to get married.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Because we’re at my daughters’ wedding. This night shouldn’t be about me.” 

“No but you could at least enjoy yourself.” Sadie retorted, flicking a strand of hair over her shoulder as she looked around.

Gwen almost let out an exasperated breath. She did want to enjoy herself, and was doing her best to keep a joyful, vague smile on her face, but there was no escaping the looming fog of uncertainty that seemed to follow her around all night. It was easy to avoid it when she was focused on other things, but there was nowhere to go when everyone was talking and dancing and eating with each other, and she was left to her own devices, her own traitorous thoughts.

It certainly didn’t help that Luke was telling people about the engagement, even if it was just Sadie at the moment. Her daughters deserved to be told face to face,  _ after  _ their wedding. And Blake...he couldn’t find out through someone else. 

Once upon a time, news of her engagement could have been given to him by a complete stranger for all she cared, but not now, not when he had poured his heart out to her so many times over the course of this weekend.

“I am enjoying myself.” Gwen defended, too late for it to even make a difference. 

Sadie’s eyes came back to her friend, and she stared at Gwen for a long time before sighing, “You really said yes?” 

Gwen scuffed her chair over so the gorgeously huge centerpiece was no longer blocking her view of the dancefloor where she saw Luke now twirling a reluctant Layla, next to Blake, who still turned heads in his two-button Tommy Hilfiger suit, dancing with Miranda.

“Was I supposed to say no?” She asked, genuinely, hating the way her voice sounded small and unsure. 

“If you have to ask...isn’t that your answer?” Sadie replied, not unkindly. 

Gwen sighed, ripping her eyes away from the dance floor. 

“I thought you liked Luke.” 

“I do like him. I think he’s great for you. I just don’t think you’re ready to get married...I never thought you would ever again.” Sadie voiced, throwing back her hendricks and tonic. 

“Why would you say that?” 

“Because there comes a point in your life where you’re given the stars, and you take them for granted, even though you give so much of yourself to keep them shining, and by the time they go out, you have less and less to offer the next time you start over. I don’t know, Gwen. I saw how much of yourself you gave Blake….it took you a long time to even want to date again. I never thought he’d get married again, but I sure as hell never saw you walking down the aisle after the one time.”

“I don’t want to be alone forever, Sadie.” 

“I never said you had to be.” 

“Then what are you saying?” 

Sadie sighed, leaning back into her chair. “I’m saying you’re the equivalent of a shiny red sports car to Luke. Which is fine for any other woman, but not a woman like you. ‘Cause you’re a home, Gwen. You’re a safe place, a beautiful garden to lay down in, a nice piece of land to get lost in. I know I sound crazy right now but there isn’t anyone like you. There’ll never be anyone like you again. You can’t just spend forever with a person who doesn’t see how rare you are. You just can’t. So while I like Luke, I don’t love him for you. I let you spend some time with him over the past year because you were happy, but I’m telling you now, if you marry him, you’ll grow to be very unhappy very quickly.”

Her friend’s words were cruel but the truth had a tendency to bite a little bit. What Gwen couldn’t understand was how wrong everyone had to be in order for her to be right. It was tiring feeling like she was against the world, simply because the world couldn’t see what she saw. Fine. Maybe she was the equivalent to some throwaway fantasy of Luke’s. But she had the house, and the white picket fence, and the gardens and the vast expanse of land under her toes, and she came out on the other side of the equation broken. Was it so bad to want to take a long drive with Luke? Was it wrong for her to think that she could roll up the west coast and leave behind a fantasy she’s lived through and almost died for? Couldn’t her new home be with Luke, wherever he decided to take them, wherever Gwen hadn’t been before? 

A small voice in her head told her that the problem was that she’d been to most places already, with another man, and had many postcards to show for it.

“What if I can see something everyone else can’t?” Gwen asked her friend. 

Sadie blinked, “You know, Blake once told me that you looked at life so differently, better than anyone else he knew. Maybe you can see something the rest of us can’t. But make sure you’re looking in the right place. I don’t want you getting hurt again.” 

Gwen wanted to scoff at her advice. No matter where she looked, no matter what she did, pain was unavoidable. It was a fact of life.

“You think Luke will hurt me?” 

“Not in so many words.” 

Gwen cocked her head, perplexed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I think you’ll hurt him, which will hurt you.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Just look at Blake.” Sadie knowingly, making Gwen blush. 

She had a point. Gwen wasn’t the type of woman to hurt others and not feel the pain she caused them herself. But she could help that by not hurting them in the first place. She had to realize that other people’s expectations of her were not her responsibility. It was her actions, and her words for them that she had to own up to. Blake could not be upset with her for accepting Luke’s proposal when she repeatedly told him and showed him that Luke was the one she chose. She didn’t owe him anything but the outright truth. But if she kept the father of her children within arm’s reach, knowing she wouldn’t ever pull that rope closer to herself, then she was at fault.

_ I need to tell him. I need to tell him soon. Tomorrow. Tomorrow for sure.  _

“You’re avoiding the dance floor,” Luke whispered in her ear abruptly, startling Gwen as he snuck up on the two women, putting his hands on Gwen’s shoulders, thumb rubbing lightly on her bare neck. Gwen sent Sadie a warning glance before twisting to look up at him, knowing his smile was scrunching up his face unattractively. She didn’t care. 

“No one asked me.” That was a lie. Many had...friends, brothers, cousins, but not the two men she would even consider saying yes to, to more than just a dance she realized before wiping the thought from her mind. Blake was not an option anymore.

“Well I’m asking now.” Luke nodded his chin to the other side of the dance floor, exactly where Blake was dancing with Miranda. 

Gwen rather not at that moment. Though the evening was painfully romantic, all white lights and the perfume of thousands of white roses, she’d much rather stay there, even with Sadie’s difficult prodding questions. 

“Maybe later?” 

Luke pouted adorably. “You love this song.” 

She did. It was Patsy Cline’s  _ Crazy  _ that was being belted out by a beautiful and talented Scarlett, a rendition that reminded her of the song the girl sang at the bar when Gwen stood next to Blake. 

Gwen replaced her ex’s earnest face with Luke’s expectact one as she reluctantly held a hand up to be pulled out of her chair. 

The version was a sweet, soft interpretation and Gwen listened quietly as Luke swung her onto the floor. They danced close together, but their eyes travelled past each other as they swayed slightly. Gwen looked around the room to see her family and friends, some staring her way, smiles gleaming, eyes dim in the soft glow of the room. As they twirled around underneath the lights, she caught Blake’s stare across the floor. He was holding Miranda close, like he knew she’d disappear sometime within the night, but wasn’t scared to let her go.

It made her tighten her grip on Luke because she  _ was _ scared to let him go.

_ Scared because it might be all too easy to replace him or because I can’t live without him?  _

Gwen shut her eyes, not wanting to see things that confused her, that made her feel things she rather not. 

“You okay?” Luke leaned down to whisper in her ear.

She nodded. “You told Sadie we were engaged.” 

Luke stiffened. “I told her not to tell you I said anything...I just had to tell someone, Gwen. Someone close enough to you.” 

She looked up at him. “But why?” 

“...To make it real.” 

Her breath caught in her chest. “It is real.” 

Luke’s blue eyes roamed over every soft feature of her face. “Is it? It seems like it's a dream...but like I’m the only one wishing it’ll come true.” 

Her hands tightened on him. “That’s not true. I love you. I want to marry you, I do.” 

It took him a moment longer to accept her words at face value. “Okay...I’m sorry I said something.” 

“It’s okay.”

It wasn’t. For some reason, it really bothered her that he couldn’t hold out just a couple more hours, just until morning, but she loved him, so she forgave him.

The songs slowly blended into each other as they danced. Before long, Gwen was sleepily standing on her feet, so sure that she was right about them. If she didn’t love him, how could she be able to do this, breath, though not in sync, but in rhythm at least, and trust, not completely, but willingly if nothing else. It looked right with Luke, regardless of how good it felt or not. 

“Mom,” Marli whispered next to them, breaking Gwen from her sleepy waltz. 

She lifted her head from off Luke’s shoulder and smiled at her daughter. Marli was holding Keen close, but she leaned over to the pair of them. 

“You wanna trade partners?” Marli asked, amusement in her eyes. 

“I’m not that bad.” Keen protested, but there was no seriousness behind it. 

“I married a man with two left feet, Mom. Luke looks like a safer option.”

They all laughed lightly, making a seamless trade of partners as Gwen took the lead with Keen, smiling at how adorable her son-in-law was. He struggled only slightly with the steps but they met in a happy medium as Michael took a break from the stage, handing the microphone to a couple of Blake’s friends. 

Before she knew it, trading partners became a trend on the dance floor. Gwen switched from Keen to her brother Eric, who talked her ear off about the promotion he got back home and the woman he was seeing for some months now. From Eric, to her father, to Jonathan, and even Declan, Gwen found herself considerably surprised when she landed in Blake’s arms. 

It happened by accident. Declan twirled her around once or twice, and she lost her balance, and fell right into her ex husband, who caught her quickly, steadying her against his chest as she found her feet from under her. 

He’d been dancing with Connie, in fact, but as soon as the trip happened, and seeing that Gwen was alright now that Blake had her, Declan reclaimed his wife and drifted across the floor as the song came to an end and another took its place just as quickly. 

Gwen looked up at Blake, thanking him softly as she straightened herself. She moved to pull away from him when she felt the country singer pull her back in close. On instinct, Gwen set her left hand on Blake’s broad shoulder, and allowed herself to be led across the floor slowly.

“What are you doing?” She asked, dumbly. 

“Dancing,” he replied, cupping his hand around her waist, his palm settling in the dip of Gwen’s spine.

“You hate dancing.” He’d been doing it all night with Miranda, but when she met Blake, he hardly ever got on the dancefloor, no matter how much she begged him to.

Blake laughed like it was kneaded out of him, smile big and genuine. His eyes glimmered and he cocked his head to the side. “You love dancing.”

Gwen missed a step which only further amused him. “It’s romantic.”

“I know. You always said dancing reminds you of _The_ _Sound of Music_. That scene at the end…” 

“You remember that?” 

“What did you always use to say?...Here you are, standing there, loving me, whether or not you should...I get it now. Somewhere in my past I must have done something good, Gwen.” 

She blinked, just barely resisting drawing him closer, and concentrated on his smiling mouth instead. “Sounds too perfect to be true.” She murmured. 

_ Because what are the odds that they ended up like this? I love him, whether or not I should, because despite their miserable and wicked past, he must have done something good for nothing comes from nothing and nothing ever could. _

“I believe it.” He said, tone not yet serious but holding no trace of uncertainty. 

Gwen believed it to, because she believed in him, but she still asked, “Why,” as she moved to rest her cheek against his shoulder. 

Blake must have liked her close proximity because he sighed in her hair, nose brushing against the soft blonde strands. “Well, you won’t believe me but I think you’re perfect and you’re right here in front of me. If that’s true, then everything else has to be.”

Gwen snorted into his shoulder. “You were not this sappy when I first met you.”

“You weren’t this...hesitant to love me when I first met you.” He parried back.

Gwen groaned, hating the way his voice carried, and pulled him in even closer as the melody continued. She wrapped both arms around Blake’s neck, moving closer to his ear to be heard only by him.

“You keep saying you’re not going to push.” She reminded him.

“I wasn’t. I was remindin’ you.”

Just as he reminded her of nights out on their porch with a strong arm around her back, taking her to a time where the moon shined brightly and the radio played quietly and she would move in closer to him, slide down the front of his chest slowly as she arched back over his arm, trusting his strength, Blake’s hot mouth on her neck under the stars as their daughters slept peacefully a whole floor away.

The song performed right then was the exact song that would play on those romantic, starry nights. If she closed her eyes, she could find a way to live in that moment forever.

“I never liked it when you went away,” Gwen confessed into Blake’s ear. He would travel for work so much that it was just another drip into her bucket of irrational insecurities about dating and eventually marrying country superstar Blake Shelton. Who should have, by all accounts, been reeling through the most beautiful women in the music industry. Or the most successful and established artists. Anyone but her. Anyone like Miranda. And then he went away for good, and she almost didn’t make it.

“I didn’t like leavin’ you,” Blake returned, thickly. 

“Why didn’t you stay?” She wasn’t really asking, because she knew the answer. 

“You never asked me to.”

Gwen closed her eyes. There it was. He didn’t know she wanted him to. 

“Ask me to now, Gwen.”

Her eyes snapped open, piercing his. Gwen didn’t look away from his face to confirm, but it felt like they were being watched, like the space around them was just a little wider than any other couples, as though to get a better look at their small bubble of feelings. She wondered vaguely where Luke was, who he was dancing with now, if he was watching them. 

“It feels like everyone’s staring at us.” 

“Not everyone,” Blake confirmed with a laugh, giving her waist a squeeze.

“The girls invited too many people. I could never have this many eyes on me at my wedding.” 

Blake hummed deep in his chest; Gwen could feel it everywhere they touched. 

“Your wedding,” he said, too casually. He leaned back, trying to catch her eyes.

“Well, I mean--I mean, if I got married again, I couldn’t--I just meant that--” Gwen choked off, hating herself for trying to backtrack. This was the perfect moment to tell him, to break the news, finally. But she couldn’t do it. 

Thankfully, Blake, in all his patient glory, didn’t press her to clarify.

“The next time you promise forever to someone it won’t be in front of everyone.” Blake told her.

There was a fat chance of that happening. She knew Luke would want a big wedding with virtually everyone they knew, professionally and personally.

Gwen’s brain shut off the next second. It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t talking about her and Luke. 

“We can’t ever get married again.” She whispered, even as Blake leaned back, unhooked one of his arms from around her waist to cup her warm cheek. 

“I never said anythin’ about marriage.”

_ No. You said forever. When I promise someone forever. _

Blake thumbed over the apple of her cheek, and she winced. “People are looking.” 

_ Where was Luke? Why wasn’t he interrupting?  _

Blake put his hand back on her waist and smiled self-deprecatingly. “You’re nervous.”

She tightened her arms around his neck. She was anxious, semi-paranoid, scared, all of the above, because she had a ring in her clutch and two hearts in her hands, and a diamond necklace wrapped around her neck, threatening to choke her within an inch of her life. 

“I have to tell you something.” She blurted, unable to hold it in anymore. 

Blake’s easy hold on her didn’t let up. Gwen waited for him to urge her on but he remained quiet, dutifully listening. She took a deep breath, but the words didn’t come out. She tried and tried but each time she did, the string she had wrapped around her heart tightened, threatening to hurt her with each squeeze.

“I think I know what you want to tell me.” He finally spoke. 

Her lungs drew in a shaky breath as she watched him gather his words. 

“Luke said something to you, didn’t he? Something that makes you want to cut me off for good...and you...you’re scared because of it. You’re scared because you do know deep down that you love me, that you’re still in love with me, like you’ll never be with Luke. But you want to pick him because unlike him, I’m the only one who can break your heart, and that’s terrifying for you. I know how that feels Gwen because right now you’re breaking mine. You’re breaking mine picking him...you don’t have to do that. You don’t have to run away from me.”

Gwen shut her eyes, a painful sound coming from the back of her throat. It was quiet, but she knew he heard it. He was the only one close enough to. It was a sound that came from the deepest parts of her. That part that recognized something so clearly, so tragically, that she felt it in her soul. Because unlike Luke, she was able to breathe with Blake, in sync, never mind in rhythm, they didn’t need it when it worked this good. And unlike Luke, she was able to trust Blake, completely, always unwillingly, because it wasn’t about trusting him with her heart or her love or her life or even her faith, it was about trusting him with her nothingness, with the absence of herself. How many people could she truly say she felt comfortable enough with to just be nothing? 

Everyone else, including Luke, wanted Gwen Stefani. The hair, the red lips, the brown eyes, the flashy clothes, the charming exterior. Regardless if it was the artist, or the mother, or the woman, she had to be Gwen, because they wouldn’t accept anything less. But not Blake. He’d take her with nothing on, nothing left, and nothing in her future. Sadie had been right when she told her people have less and less to offer every time they start over. But she wouldn’t be starting over with Blake, and he wouldn’t care what she had left to give him. He wanted  _ her.  _ He didn’t care what version of her it was. Nothing from her was somehow everything to him. It might look right with Luke, but it felt good with Blake. 

“I want to kiss you right now,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to his. How could she not want to draw the only person in this world who would take her however she dared to be given any closer? Because this close, Blake filled her entire field of view, the rest of the wedding guests just a colorful blur around them. 

“I want to kiss you all the time,” he whispered back, and almost did when she felt a gentle hand on her back.

“Gwen, I can’t find your clutch anywhere at the table. The rings inside. I don’t want someone to have taken it.”

She went completely still. Extracting herself from Blake’s embrace, she slowly turned around to face Luke, who guided her closer to his side, a good front of worry in his eyes. But she saw it there, the small glint of jealousy, that spark of panic, panic at losing her, and wasn’t she about to do just that? Leave him there as she fell into Blake. 

_ Blake. _

Gwen looked back to him, but he was staring down at the dance floor boards under their feet, toes stepping on fallen rose petals. His eyes slowly dragged up to meet hers and Gwen’s breath caught at the look in his baby blues. 

Betrayal. Hurt.  _ Love. _

“Gwen.” Luke pressed, hand encircling her arm, pulling her away from her ex. 

Ex who left her first. Ex who broke her heart first. Ex who moved on first. She wasn’t doing anything to him that he hadn’t already done to her.

Except she didn’t care. She didn’t want Blake to feel what he was feeling then. No one should ever have to feel that.

“Blake--” 

He turned around so abruptly that Gwen almost thought she imagined him there. He was gone in a second, the smell of his cologne the only indication that she danced with him right there in that spot. 

“Gwen--” 

She pulled away from Luke, eyes going to the table she sat at with Hayden and Jonathan. It was empty. There was no sign of her clutch, and as much as she wanted to say  _ fuck it,  _ she couldn’t. The ring was expensive, and given to her, regardless of how she felt about it now. Gwen had to find it.

The search led her all around the room, and before she could convince herself to turn the entire resort upside down, she spotted the sparkling handbag underneath Hayden’s arm. She was outside, enjoying a smoke with a couple of people. Gwen sighed with relief.

Her friend looked over to her warily as she came up to her side. 

“You okay? You look like someone told you your career is over.” Hayden joked, blowing her smoke up into the air.

“Luke thought someone stole my clutch.” Gwen answered, wrapping an arm around her midsection, feeling sick all of a sudden.

“What a dumbass. I’m sure no one would have stolen it but our table was clearing out and I didn’t want to just leave it there while you were dancing. I was by the bar for a while waiting for you to stop hanging all over Blake but I needed a smoke.” 

The tips of her ears grew red. “We were just dancing.” 

“Yeah, okay. Well here. You want to go back inside and get a drink with me?” 

Gwen accepted her clutch but shook her head. “I need to go up to the room for a second, maybe grab some medicine. I’m starting to get a headache.” 

It wasn’t a lie. Her head did hurt, along with her chest.

“Okay. Find me if you need anything.” 

“I will.” 

Gwen squeezed her arm before walking back inside. She moved to the elevators, willing the doors to open quickly. A hand brushed hers and she jerked away from the touch. Luke gave her a wounded look.

“Gwen--” 

“How could you do that?” She cut him off. 

He looked affronted. “How could I--Gwen, you were--you can’t dance like that with  _ him  _ and expect me to just--” Luke sighed, running a hand through his frazzled hair. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologized immediately, because she was. What she did was rude, inappropriate, and hurtful. She had already done enough of that today. 

“What were you guys talking about?” He asked, like he was afraid of the answer. 

Gwen was tired of lying. “Things we don’t talk about.” 

That caught him off guard. 

“Gwen...am I missing somethin’ here?” 

She wanted to laugh. “You didn’t need to do that. I was going to tell him. I was going to tell everyone.” 

“I didn’t do it because of that.” 

“Then why?” She asked, trying to keep her exasperation from showing.

“You can’t tell someone something if there’s nothing to tell.” 

“I wasn’t changing my mind.” And wasn’t that a lie.

“It didn’t look like it from where I was. I don’t understand, Gwen. You and him...You barely talk to each other. What changed this weekend?”

She wanted to say nothing but that would have been a lie, too. 

“Luke...I can’t--I don’t have anything to say.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

If he were Blake, he wouldn’t have to ask, he would accept the nothing she had to give him, and that would be it. 

It was such a cruel thing to think in the moment, and she didn’t like being cruel. It wasn’t who she was. 

“Please just...I need a second.” 

“From me?” He asked immediately. 

“From everything. Please.” 

One of the things she did love about him was that he knew not to push, where Blake didn’t. It was so frustrating. Luke didn’t know how to accept nothing from her but never pushed when she had so much to work through. Blake accepted when she had nothing, but pushed when he caught a glimpse of anything.

The ride up to her room was a lonely one. She should have been downstairs, enjoying the night with her friends and family, basking in the happiness of her daughters. But she couldn’t. Physically, her body wouldn’t be able to handle any of it. Mentally...she knew she felt all she was going to be able to that evening, and the rest would have to wait until the morning. 

Gwen took one look in the mirror and hated the way her dress looked, hated the way her fingers crept up to the necklace around her throat, the way her fingers encircled her bare ring finger. She let go, steadying herself against the bathroom counter. Reaching behind her shoulder, Gwen felt for the small zipper at the top of her dress and slowly pulled it down.

The dress slipped off her small frame in a massive poof on the cold tile. She stepped out of it carefully, hating the chilly air that attacked her exposed skin. Removing her heels lastly, Gwen walked back to the main room and opened her clutch. She grabbed the velvet box with steady hands, opening it to reveal a ring worthy of a better woman. And yet, she slipped it on, loving the way it fit perfectly on her, the way it shined in the dim light of the room, the way it called to her heart in the same way the necklace did.

A soft knock on the door startled her. 

She instantly sighed. She told Luke not to push. She needed him not to. She was so close to the edge, that if he nudged her even an inch, she’d fall over, right into Blake, and further away from him.

Gwen went to the door, reluctantly. What possessed her to check the peephole first she’d never know but she was instantly grateful she did because Blake was on the other side of the door. 

He was standing with his back to it, his hand running through his curls. As if he felt her eyes on him then, he turned back around and knocked again, louder this time. Gwen held her breath. How did he even know what room she was staying in? 

_ You told him at the bar. You told him and he remembered.  _

“Gwen. Open the door.” 

Gwen took several steps back, as if she’d been burned. She wouldn’t open the door. She couldn’t. 

“Gwen.  _ Please _ .” 

The urgency in his voice was palpable, it matched the urgency in her heart. Why couldn’t it have been Luke? 

Another loud knock. Her bones jumped. 

_ You’re nervous.  _

Gwen closed her eyes tightly, willing him to go away. 

_ Be strong.  _

Blake banged on the door loudly, and she winced, opening her eyes. She searched for her robe, pulling it on just as he started up again. Gwen ran to the door and yanked it open.

“Stop! Someone will hear you--” 

Before she could finish, Blake had backed her into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Gwen’s heart raced as he pushed her up against the wall. His forehead rested upon hers, eyes closing as he breathed in the tiny bit of air between them. Gwen needed that for herself because she couldn’t breathe with him so close, doing nothing but keeping her trapped where she was. 

The tension was thick around them, tasting like lust and love and everything in between. She willed him silently to  _ do  _ something,  _ say  _ something, as she stared at his closed eyelids. It wasn’t until several moments later that he finally opened his eyes, but they didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, they travelled down her body, over her neck and chest, down her stomach, until they landed on the tie in her robe. Carefully, slowly, Blake slid the strings from one another with one hand, parting the fabric open to reveal her exposed skin. 

His eyes looked at the white bra and matching underwear she was wearing. Gwen didn’t want his stare to feel as good as it did but she couldn’t find the words to tell him to stop. Just as she let him dig his hands into her hips, and pull her lower half closer to him, so that her back arched off the wall, and her abs twisted and stretched to accommodate the new position.

His large hands combed over the flat skin of her stomach, and Gwen couldn’t catch up or get ahead of him so all she could do was hold on.

“Blake--” 

His hands let her go suddenly, knocking her off balance. But his weight was there again, pressing her back into the wall. His hand grabbed for her left one, finding her ring finger. His eyes looked at the diamond through slits, and she hated herself for putting it on in the first place. 

Carefully, slowly, just as he did with her robe, Blake slipped the ring off, dropping it to the floor with a soft thud. The intense look in his eyes, the complete disregard for Luke’s token of love for her, caused an unwanted flutter in her gut. 

But unwanted it was. 

Gwen found the strength to pull her hand back, but she didn’t leave it to rest by her side, instead, she set it on his chest, felt his heart beat for a moment, and then pushed him back gently. Her mistake was leaving her palm there after she did. 

“Don’t do this.” She murmured, hearing her voice crack.

They weren’t cheaters. They were good people. They could still be good people after all this was said and done. 

“I was going to tell you,” she said, hand still between them. Because she felt like he had to know. It wasn’t her intention to lead him on or not consider his feelings in all this. 

“Tomorrow morning I was going to sit you down and tell you and then the girls.” She kept going, hand pressing firmly into his skin.

Blake grabbed both of her hands then, placing them over her head, against the wall, holding them there. She whimpered, feeling the soft fabric of his dress shirt brushing tenderly along her bare skin. There he was, in full suit, while she tried to hide behind a robe.

His face leaned down, closer to her neck, and Gwen looked up at the ceiling as he kissed her shoulder, chastely, softly, adoringly. He did it again, and then again. Three times. Maybe one for each of their daughters, maybe because  _ three times the charm.  _ Gwen didn’t know, but he pulled back and released her hands. 

The space between them increased, until he was virtually on the other side of the room, just staring at her, shoulders slumped, body tired and rejected, knowing that if he didn’t stop then, he’d never stop again. 

“You said yes.” While it wasn’t posed as a question, Gwen knew he wanted an answer. 

The mother of three nodded, eyes going to the ring on the floor. 

“That still your answer?” 

He had to ask.

Gwen took a deep breath, closing her robe, tying the fabric across her middle. “I don’t know.” 

“You know.” He voiced, tone slightly volatile.

She knew it wasn’t a flat out no, but she also knew it wasn’t a confident yes. 

“Do you want me to make it easy on you?” He asked, surprising her.

“Blake--” 

“I don’t wanna be respectful right now. I don’t want to be the good boy that keeps his hand down and his mouth shut as the woman he loves gets married to another guy. The wrong guy. You need a reason not to, I’ll give you three. Lennon, Marli, Layla--” 

“Blake--” 

“I love you. I’ve never not loved you. I will always love you. There’s six. You want me to keep going?” 

Gwen wouldn’t allow him to overwhelm her. “What exactly are you offering me here? Some nostalgia? Some retrospective of the way we were over a decade ago? We’re not twenty and on the road--” 

“I’m not looking to give you a life you already had, Gwen. Our daughters are all grown up. Our careers are what they are now. I drank the last sip of every bottle dry and found nothing at the bottom of ‘em. I’m not looking back. I’m not eager to relive the past. I’m a changed man, Gwen. I’m a changed man standing in front of the girl who changed me, asking her to give us a second chance so that I can do right by us this time.” 

“What if you’re too late?”

He smiled self-deprecatingly at the ring on the floor, walking the few steps over to her. The ring wasn’t far from them, and Gwen watched stunned as he put his shoe over the piece of jewelry, stepping on it firmly as he looked deep into her eyes, making sure she got it--got him.

“I’m a lot of things, Gwen. But I’ll never be that.”


	6. Postcard from Stardust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> Welcome to the sixth chapter of Postcards.
> 
> Hope everyone is staying healthy and happy with the little Shefani quarantine content we got. :)
> 
> Songs in this chapter:  
> Two Sparrows In A Hurricane--Tanya Tucker  
> Stardust--Willie Nelson
> 
> I hope you're intrigued by this one.
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments, you keep me going.
> 
> ➣➣➣

**Santa Fe, New Mexico** __

Luke stirred slightly as the bed shifted weight, no longer heavy on both sides as Gwen crept across the floor and over to the closet. 

The pop singer shrugged on a light shirt and a pair of slippers quietly, tiptoeing her way to the hotel door. She slipped out into the hall silently and made her way to the elevators. The resort lobby was empty save for a couple of stragglers sitting around, conversing drunkenly, reminding Gwen of nights before, buried in the past. 

She hugged her jacket closer to her chest and walked through the foyer until she got to the pool. There was no one around, just her and the warm water, casting a beautiful yellow and blue glow from the lights at the bottom of it. The resort had a sound system throughout the retreat, speakers hidden everywhere around the place, under tables, on top of shutters, even in the ground. It played music throughout the day, and apparently at night. 

Gwen sat down in one of the lounge seats, reclining back so that she could stare up at the night’s dark sky. But the stars were blinding and just the distraction she needed. It had been hard falling asleep, especially with Luke next to her. He was so peaceful in slumber, so perfect, that Gwen envied his ability to forget, better yet, forgive. 

It was as if earlier never happened, like everything after their dancing didn’t exist. He just came up to the room, took a long shower, got into bed, and held her close. He didn’t utter a word, didn’t ask a single question. He just held her, breathed with her, kissed her softly, tenderly, and fell asleep, trusting that tomorrow would bring better memories. 

Gwen wanted to give him exactly that. She didn’t want troubled sleep, or hard decisions, or uncertain futures. She wanted the easiness that her life had grown accustomed to for the past year. She wanted to go home tomorrow, get back to a routine, get back so she could start making new music with Scott, and make plans to marry Luke. 

Honest. 

She had to be honest with herself. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

Gwen jumped out of her skin and sat up, eyes settling on Connie. The woman was wearing a bathing suit, a pool towel tucked neatly underneath her arm.

“I was just--I couldn’t sleep.” Gwen revealed, heart still racing. “You going for a swim?” 

Connie nodded, flip flops making a particularly annoying squishy sound as she walked to the empty chair beside Gwen. “We were down at the bar. Everyone’s still drinking--well, everyone who isn’t tired yet. Some of us wanted to go for a night’s swim.” 

“Who’s coming?” 

“Declan, Brandon, Scarlett and Hayden. Oliver said he would come after he took a long piss.” Connie made quotations with her fingers, shaking her head. “Oh and Layla couldn’t sleep either so she found us down at the bar, said she could go for a swim, too.” 

Gwen frowned. “Shouldn’t Oliver be...you know...it is his wedding night.” From her experience, Gwen found herself locked in a bedroom with Blake for two days after they got hitched. 

Connie shrugged, “He said Lennon was passed out. She  _ was _ downing shots every person bought her tonight.” 

Gwen’s eyebrows touched her forehead. She didn’t know that. 

_ How could I? I went upstairs and never came back down. I must have missed so much of the reception.  _

“So, where is everyone?” Gwen asked, looking behind her friend to the quiet resort. 

“We all went to change. They should be here any minute...you gonna go up and slip your bathing suit on? Swim with us for a little bit?” 

It sounded sort of appealing, but she didn’t want to risk waking Luke. “You think anyone will say anything if I just swim in my bra and underwear?” 

Connie laughed, shucking off her sandles. “If anything, the boys will welcome it.” She winked. 

Gwen snickered, already lifting the bottom of her shirt.

“Alright, you know I have to say it.” Connie spoke as her friend got undressed. 

“Say what?” 

“My son, your daughter.” 

The mother of three grinned. “I still can’t believe it sometimes.” 

“I have to say I’m--it was nice to know that we’d still be close as families after me and Blake divorced. I know you probably weren’t my biggest fan in the beginning but I think we love each other like sisters now.” 

“You’re the only other woman in this world who knows what it’s like to be married to Blake Shelton. I can’t let you go, now.” Gwen teased, but she was completely serious. 

“Oh God. I don’t know how I lasted that long.” 

“Oh come on. You guys never fought. I thought you guys were perfect together, way simpler than him and I.” Gwen revealed, sitting down again once she was down to her underclothes. 

“Yeah but that was the point. He didn’t care enough to really fight with me. There was no passion there, you know? Things were  _ too  _ simple. I mean, you may have gotten the worst of him when you guys were together, but at least you knew that he cared that much to be that angry or upset those few times that he was. I’d rather have that than nothing really.” 

Gwen nodded, remembering their conversations from before. Connie had wanted Blake to be a little more combative, a little more passionate when it came to Connie and their relationship. Unlike with Gwen, which could be compared to thunder and rain and everything in between.

The two women lapsed into a comfortable silence until they heard voices coming from inside. The rest of the late night swimming group arrived, all too eager to hit the water, and even more enthusiastic when they saw Gwen was already there to join them.

For the first time that night, she allowed herself to put everything in the back of her mind as she joined her friends. She swam, floated, and carried on a deep conversation with Scarlett about music as they both sipped on some wine coolers that Brandon was smart enough to procure from the bar before they left it for good. Hayden joined them after several minutes, always interested in music talk. 

Even though Gwen was enjoying herself, she still kept an eye on Layla, who was caught in a game of chicken with Oliver, Declan, and Connie, with Brandon playing referee. It didn’t sit right with her, seeing how easy and affectionate Layla and her brother-in-law seemed as they fought and splashed around in the water. It was boys against girls, and then switched to Connie and Declan together, leaving Layla to climb up on Oliver’s shoulders, hands settling into his silky wet hair and patting affectionately as Connie took a little bit longer to settle comfortably behind her husband’s head. 

Gwen tried to remain non plus but it was proving difficult everytime Layla knocked her ex step-mother over into the water, sending Declan over with her, and received an intimate squeeze to her thighs, where Oliver had to hold her from.

“Blake! Blake, come on man! Get in!” 

Gwen whipped her head around, eyes running across the pool and over to the entrance. Blake was standing inches away from the glass door, hands shoved into his dress pants, tie gone, dress shirt open at the throat, vest completely parted to the side. He looked like he’d just been fucked within an inch of his life, and her mind went immediately to Miranda. 

It couldn’t be true, because he was declaring his undying love for her, he couldn’t be doing Miranda at the same time. Then again, he was single. He owed her nothing, if not to play games with her. Realistically, he could do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. 

“You guys look like a bunch of wet rats. Why are ya’ll still up?” Blake joked, walking closer to the pool, eyes settling on her for a second, surprised, before schooling his face once again. 

“Night’s still young, you ass.” Declan splashed some water over the edge, hitting Blake’s shoes. 

The country singer chuckled, bending down over the ledge to feel the water.

“Why are you still up, Dad?” Layla asked, still perched atop Oliver’s shoulders. 

Blake shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

“Where’s miss princess of country?” Brandon asked.

“Ran is sleeping if you must know.” 

The nickname visibly made Gwen uncomfortable. 

“You tire her out, already, Dad?” Oliver teased, in more ways than one.

“Not that it’s any of your business,  _ son _ , but no. She’s staying in her own room. She just had too much to drink, like your wife.” He parried back to the boy.

“So, why don’t you go put your swim shorts on and a shirt and join us?” Connie asked, not really wanting to hear anymore about Miranda Lambert. Gwen agreed with the sentiment. 

“I’m good. Ya’ll have fun.” He stood, straightening out his shirt and pants.

“Actually, I think I’ll come too. If I hurry, Jonathan might still be up for a quickie.” Hayden voiced, heading for the pool stairs. 

“Gross.” Layla covered her ears in mock protest. 

“That actually sounds good to me. You down, babe?” Declan looked to Connie, who shrugged in that charming way of hers. 

“Gross.” Blake repeated Layla’s sentiment. Laughter greeted him afterwards, and Blake smirked, even as he helped Connie and Declan out of the water, both choosing to be completely lazy as they forwent the stairs several feet away.

“Kelly would never let me wake her up for sex.” Brandon said as he joined the leaving group. 

“Just tell her she doesn’t have to do anything but lie there and you’re all set.” Oliver advised. 

Layla slapped him in the chest, hard, judging by the man’s wince. 

“The hot tubs on the other side of the pool. We can hang there for a little bit, Uncle Brandon.” Layla offered, seeing how much her father’s manager didn’t want to go back upstairs.

“I’ll come with. The water’s starting to feel a little cold.” Scarlett piped up, sending Gwen an apologetic look as she headed for the stairs.

_ How did this turn into just me again? _

Gwen thought she might as well get out, too, feeling some of that chilliness Scarlett was speaking of. It became a mistake quite quickly when she realized everyone had brought towels, and she didn’t have one for herself. She was just cursing underneath her breath when footsteps drew closer to her. 

The singer looked up, eyes narrowing on an approaching Blake as he shucked his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was an expensive piece of clothing, and he looked like he didn’t care one bit that it was getting drenched with chlorine and a thousand chemicals. 

“Thank you,” she spoke softly, knowing she’d be screwed on her way upstairs if he didn’t offer the piece of clothing to her in the first place. 

He looked down at her, silently, face a blank canvas.

They were alone, again, save for the music still playing overhead from the speakers and the sounds from around the corner of the building, where the hot tub was. 

Gwen briefly thought about Layla and Oliver out of her sight but figured things would be fine. Brandon and Scarlett were with them.

Putting another thing out of her mind, Gwen sat back down on the pool chair and leaned back, tightening his jacket around her tiny frame.

She looked up at the towering figure above her and saw Blake frowning.

“You’re not goin’ back upstairs?” He asked.

The thing was...she didn’t want to. Much like Brandon, her partner would be asleep, and she’d be up, not wanting to join them in whatever peaceful slumber they’d found for themselves. No, she much rather look at the stars again, and ponder what her life had become just before Connie had interrupted her musings.

“I think I’m gonna sit out here for a little bit.” She finally replied, liking the way her response caught him off guard. 

But then he nodded again, face impassive. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He told her, turning around without a moment’s hesitation and walking back inside the resort. 

It was her turn to be surprised by his response, and unlike him, she couldn’t recover from it as quickly. 

It was several minutes, she counted fifteen, before he made an appearance by the pool again. Her eyes squinted to the objects he was carrying in his hand as he strolled over to her. 

“Hi.” He greeted, as if he was shocked to see her still there. He probably thought she’d bolt at the first chance she got. 

_ And why didn’t I?  _

“I thought you were going to be right back?” She mused. 

He sat down in the empty chair beside her, the same one Connie had claimed from their chat earlier. “My scavenger hunt took a little longer than I thought.”

“What scavenger hunt?” 

“For this.” He held up the wine bottle in his right hand, which was juggled alongside a glass of soda. In his other hand, he held an empty wine glass and a cork.

“What is it?” She frowned.

“You don’t recognize the label?” 

She took a closer look and gasped when she read the name. It was her favorite wine. The bottle was first tasted in Oklahoma, at his mother’s ranch house, a week before his Opry induction. She remembered it like it was just yesterday. Gwen had been hard pressed to find the make in California, since it was strictly distributed in the south, and apparently, New Mexico as well.

“My favorite.” She murmured softly. 

“You’re favorite.” He confirmed, setting his club soda down so he could open the bottle. Gwen watched dazed as he poured her a glass and handed it to her diligently. 

He picked up his own drink and raised it slightly in the air between them. 

“To the mother of my kids and the most beautiful mother any three girls ever had.” 

Gwen’s face flushed. “You can be so…” 

_ Exasperating, frustrating, foolish, endearing, adamant, handsome,  _ **_frustrating._ **

“...aggravating.” Was what she settled on.

“Why? What did I say? What’s the matter?” 

“Finding my favorite bottle of wine, giving me your jacket, staying in separate rooms--” 

“So you are jealous of Miranda.” He cut her off.

“I’m not jealous. I don’t like to see you with other women, that’s perfectly normal with ex wives and husbands. It took me a while to even get comfortable with Connie.” 

“How do you think I feel with you and Luke?” He asked pointedly. 

Gwen huffed and took a sip from her wine. “It doesn’t matter. You always wait until I’m...until I’m vulnerable. Earlier with the robe and now…” She gestured to her half naked body only covered by his jacket but so much. “You’re practically still dressed to go out and I’m here in my bare feet--” 

“--I like you in bare feet.” 

“--I feel like I’m at a disadvantage.” She pointed out. 

“Good.” He smiled devilishly, clinking their glasses together. “Here’s to your disadvantage.”

She scoffed, even as he drank down his soda in what seemed like one swallow. He put a hand on her knee after he set his glass down. Gwen battled with herself to push it away, but didn’t have the heart to, nor the desire. 

“I wanted to say sorry...for earlier in the room.” Blake started. “I know I might’ve come on too strong, scared you a little bit.” He took a deep breath. “I do respect what you want, Gwen. I just...it’s hard for me to show it. I’m not that good with city manners like your boyfriend what with me growin’ up out there with the cows--” 

His hand slid up further and Gwen grasped it tightly before it could reach its intended destination. “Don’t give me that old growing-up-with-the-cows excuse. You gave me that years ago.” 

Blake was grinning handsomely now, eyes pouty. “No, I didn’t.” 

“Yes you did.” She countered, hating the way he made her smile so quickly. 

“Well it worked didn’t it? You liked it.” 

She smiled down at their hands. “You were supposed to be a good ‘ol cowboy.” She reminded him.

“I am.” 

She stopped smiling. “Maybe you are. They always said don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys. Guess I should have paid more attention to that one.” 

His smile faded. “Why is that?” 

“Because cowboys ain’t easy to love and they’re harder to hold.” She recited the lyrics, much to his chagrin. 

“Gwen--” 

“And they never stay home and they’re always alone...even with someone they love.” 

“Okay.” He told her, resigned. 

“You said it, not me.” She replied, drinking her wine down like it was water. 

It wasn’t often that she left him stunned into silence, but then was one of those rare moments. When she finally looked back at him, tongue dry from the vino, she saw him staring at her intensely. She figured it was from earlier, her comment, and insult, his anger, and resolve. But this was different. The way he was looking then, came from a place she knew well, even lived in at one point in time. It came from his soul. 

“Gwen...you know you’re too beautiful. To the point that it hurts.” 

She moved to scoff at him but he beat her to it. 

“No, I mean it.” He sighed. “I know I don’t say things like you want to hear ‘em, but I can’t help but think everytime I look at you...shit...she’s gonna kill me. She doesn’t know how beautiful she is. She doesn’t know how much it hurts to look at her...and I think...what happened? There was a time where I could look at her and breathe just fine, the way it used to be, the way we used to be, and I miss that. I miss her. I miss when it didn’t hurt...but you know what I miss most of all?” 

“Blake.” 

“Hm.” 

“Stop talking.” 

His mouth shut but opened again a second later. “I just wanna say one last thing--” 

“Stop talking. Our song is on.” She told him again, this time pointing upward to the air, where the music was playing. 

Blake strained his ears to listen, and finally smiled when he heard the beautiful, passionate voice of Tanya Tucker.

_ She's fifteen and he's barely driving a car. She's got his ring and he's got the keys to her heart. It's just a matter of time. They'll spread their wings and fly. _

“Oh my God. I haven’t heard this in so long.” Gwen stood, astonished. 

Blake stood with her, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Dance with me.” He held his hand out to her but she shook her head. 

“That’s not a good idea. You know where that road leads to.” 

He took her in by the waist anyways, holding her close, tight, but with all the care in the world. It took her breath away, and Gwen could only hold onto him until she got it back. 

_ Like two sparrows in a hurricane, trying to find their way, with a head full of dreams and faith that can move anything. They've heard it's all uphill, but all they know is how they feel. The world says they'll never make it, love says they will. _

“Winnin’ my first real award, sititn’ with you on my bus, listenin’ to some of the greatest love songs, knowing I’d never love anyone more than I did right in that moment, right there with you next to me.” He murmured in her ear, twirling them slowly in a circle, bringing up the memory of when she first heard the song. 

Blake Shelton introduced her to a lot of things, country music, tour life, motherhood...but the most important thing he ever introduced her to was love. 

_ There's a baby crying and one more on the way. There's a wolf at the door with a big stack of bills they can't pay. The clouds are dark and the wind is high but they can see the other side. _

Gwen clutched the man in her arms tighter, dreaming on her feet.

_ She's eighty-three and he's barely driving a car. She's got his ring and he's got the key to her heart. It's just a matter of time. They'll spread their wings and fly. _

“Like two sparrows in a hurricane,” Gwen sang in a whisper, feeling the weight of the words pressing down on her. 

“Tryin’ to find their way,” Blake finished, just as softly, in that golden voice of his. A voice that would be remembered for lifetimes, well after they were both dead and gone. 

_ Love said it would.  _

The song ended all too quickly and Gwen had to blink back the tears she could feel teetering off the edges of her eyelids. 

“We can find our way.” Blake told her, lips pressing against her temple before she could pull away. 

She shrugged off his jacket, suddenly warm enough. She turned away from him and wrung out her hands, slid them through her damp hair, and took a deep breath. 

“Gwen--” 

“What do you miss most of all?” She interrupted, just a tad too desperate. 

She could feel his confusion, and when she turned around, she almost laughed at how cute he was when he was momentarily perplexed. 

“You said you miss me. You miss when it didn’t hurt. But you said you missed something more. What was it? What were you going to say?” She needed to know, badly, for some inexplicable reason. 

Blake caught his bearings again, “Well...I don’t care if it sounds stupid, Gwen...I miss those damn shoes you used to wear with my face on ‘em...and I miss the times when you used to draw my dumbass tattoo on the girls’ arms when they asked you to and...I miss my razor being dull because you used it to shave your legs with and didn’t think I’d ever catch on--” 

Gwen gasped, flushing a bright red once again.

“And I miss those matching doe and buck keychains with the fuzzy balls you forced me to carry around, and I miss the way you’d text me from the other room sayin’ how much you missed me and wanted to makeout with me even though you just saw me five minutes ago, and I miss the music we made together, and the blankets you used to hog in bed, and the way you left me with no closet space...and the way you’d say my name after we’d make love...and I miss hearin’ your Blakey, Gwen...I miss the postcards you used to send me...I miss swearin’ in front of the kids ‘cause you’d always be around to make believe that you were shocked by it.”

“Okay, you can stop now.” He had to because she couldn’t draw in any more air if he didn’t.

He sighed heavily. “Nothing’s any good without you, Gwen. I miss a lot of things...I guess I just miss you.” 

A single tear fell down her cheek but she could hardly help that. 

“Why did you take so long to tell me?” She found her voice somewhere in the midst of her strained heart and his adoring words. 

“I don’t know, Gwen… ‘Cause I guess I was hoping it’d fade with time...but it’s just like your beauty...doing a hell of a job holding on to you...and never leaving me.”

“What am I supposed to do with that?” She asked, tired and conflicted.

“Whatever you want.” 

She shook her head. She thought she knew what she wanted, and then he went and told her things like that, made her feel emotions she swore to never touch again, not even with a ten foot pole. All she really desired was a moment to not think about him or Luke or what tomorrow would look like. 

Deciding she was going to give herself just that, Gwen bit back the rest of her tears and started to excuse herself from him, calling it a night for good, something she should have done hours before, only for him to pull her back.

She almost screamed, until he sat down on the chair, hand still encircled around her wrist.

“Don’t go.” 

“Blake.” 

“Break my heart tomorrow. But tonight...tonight lay here with me. Watch the stars. Spare me for a couple more hours. Please...and I promise I won’t say another thing in the morning.” 

She wanted so bad to refuse, and yet, she wanted so bad to accept.

“Give me tonight, Gwen. You know you want to.”

He tugged a little more insistently, and Gwen found herself pulled all the way down, until she laid beside him, but the chair was too narrow, Blake was too tall, too wide, and there was no room for her but half on top of him. 

It’s how she found herself in his arms, head resting on his chest, leg thrown over his own. She exhaled, hearing his steady heartbeat that had quickened in pace when he realized he held her close, something he’s wanted for some time now.

_ Sometimes I wonder why I spend the lonely nights dreaming of a song. The melody haunts my reverie and I am once again with you. When our love was new, and each kiss an inspiration. But that was long ago and now my consolation is in the stardust of a song. _

_ Beside the garden wall, when stars are bright. You are in my arms. The nightingale tells his fairy tale. A paradise where roses grew. _

_ Though I dream in vain. In my heart there always will remain...My stardust melody. _

Willie Nelson played on the radio. Gwen Stefani closed her eyes, feeling the stardust behind them, and Blake Shelton held her close.


	7. Postcard from a Wrong Direction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> Welcome to the seventh chapter of Postcards.
> 
> Hope everyone is staying healthy and happy. :)
> 
> I hope you're intrigued by this one, however short it may be.
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments, you keep me going, truly.
> 
> ➣➣➣

Everyone told Lennon that she was just like her mother. 

She liked the finer things in life. She was beautiful, sensitive but strong, talented but modest. She had a big heart, but she also chose to guard it a little more closely than her love. In a lot of ways, she guessed she was a lot like her mother, and Marli was a lot like their father. 

But the one thing Lennon did take from Blake was her ability to desire the simple things in life when it mattered. A good pair of farm boots, an old country song with a beautiful story to tell, a simple kind of love to cherish. The attachment to a famous icon like her mother was the only glamorous thing outside of that more traditionalist mindset that her father allowed himself to have.

And it had always been like that for as long as she could remember, for as long as her parents were married and together. Blake wanted simple. Gwen let him be simple. She never tried to change what he was, or rather, what he would always be, which was a simple man with a beautiful voice, and some demons like the rest of the world. 

Even so, Blake was so different from Luke that Lennon had been surprised when her mother first introduced her and her sisters to the label executive. 

Blake Shelton was a blue jean wearing, plaid shirt sporting, dirty, rugged, old hat kind of man. Luke Hill was a crisp, finely-tailored Armani suit kind of guy. She didn’t know if her mother just truly didn’t have a type or if her father had done such a number on her that it sent Gwen running in the opposite direction into unfamiliar arms when he left. But seeing her then, sun barely in the sky, wrapped in the arms of her father, the morning after her and her sister’s wedding, Lennon realized it. She realized it even before, just moments ago, when she woke up to an empty wedding bed with the worst hangover ever, when she traveled downstairs searching for her husband after she attempted to clean up and dress for the day, when she eventually found Oliver lying in one of the hammocks on the other side of the pool, holding her little sister close as they slept, as they had slept under the stars and now under the slowly rising sun. Lennon realized it. 

You can go one way, but love will eventually turn you back around. 

She could live with her sister and make music all she wanted. She could become a big star, wear the best and most expensive clothes, sing all the right songs, be both sexy and dignified just how her husband likes his women to be, even love Oliver with everything she had, even unguard her heart, something she swore never to do and somehow ended up doing anyways, and she would still be loving in the wrong direction...because Layla was Gwen, and Oliver was Blake, and she was just standing on the other side of the pool with Luke, in their designer clothes, and their successful careers, and wondering why their love wasn’t enough, why their rings weren’t being worn, why their luck had suddenly run out.   
Because Lennon was just like her mother, and sometimes, she was just like her father, but she would always be like Luke, a beautiful tragedy, able to show the people that they love the way, the right way, love’s way, the way they really want to go, but never be able to follow. And maybe that’s what hurt the most. Because Lennon wasn’t turning around anytime soon. She would fight a little harder for Oliver if that’s what it took, if that’s what was needed. Just as she was sure Luke would fight for her mother. 

And if she found herself unable to sleep some nights, then she would try harder to dream. She’d snuggle just a little more closer to her husband in his sleep and never let him go. Layla and Blake had a time to love what was her’s and Luke’s. They had a lifetime. Layla should have said something sooner, should have been just a little more louder than she was. It wasn’t her fault that she’d fallen in love with Oliver while Lennon had already wrapped herself around his dreams. It wasn’t Luke’s fault that her father couldn’t sleep anymore without her mother by his side. 

It just was. Everything was what it was. She and Oliver were married. Gwen had moved on. Love would just have to settle for the direction they were going in for now. It would have to change its mind eventually. Because she couldn’t give up that easily, not when she’s come this far. 

But seeing her parents like that, Blake staring at his ex wife while she slept, as if she’d disappear at any moment, as if he’d never get to see her again after that morning, Lennon thought for the first time how much of a bitch karma was. 

For years, Gwen had apparently lived in parallel with Blake’s life, irrevocably alone, no matter the scores of people and smiling faces that undoubtedly surrounded her. Gwen hadn't married. She never allowed herself to get that close to someone, to share her secrets and dreams with, until Luke, until this past year. And here her dad was, divorced, living alone, building a house for people who don’t live with him anymore and dreams that had died a long time ago. It was his turn to be by himself. It was his turn to roll over and feel the cold and empty side of a bed. 

But then she saw the way her mother unconsciously moved closer to Blake in her sleep, as if she recognized him even in slumber, and felt truly comfortable in his arms only. The problem was...Lennon liked Luke. She thought he was a good fit for Gwen. She thought that his arms could never be Blake’s but they were still just as good. If her mother chose the suit over the plaid, Lennon wouldn’t be heartbroken. Not like she was after Blake had left, and the unhappy years that followed, when her mother looked through her collection of photo albums always after she put the girls down for bed, making Lennon suspect that she was doing a hell of a lot more than fondly reminiscing; Gwen was trying to learn what became of a broken heart as she stared at her once happy family for long periods of time in silence, wholly lost in thought, her crestfallen face barely holding back the tears in her eyes.  
Gwen hadn't known that she'd seen her, sitting there in the living room where she kept her long line of accomplishments, where her father used to keep his. But Lennon saw the postcards, their tear stained surfaces fondly caressed by Gwen’s gentle fingers. Realization had suddenly dawned on Lennon that love had directions. She knew where her mother was going then, but didn’t have the slightest clue which direction she was going now. 

She looked at her parents, huddled together, thought about Layla and Oliver still sleeping in that hammock, thought about Luke, somewhere safe upstairs still. He didn’t have to see what she saw, or feel what she felt. She liked Luke, and could even grow to love him. But what if her mother was making a terrible mistake? What if loving Luke was a direction she couldn’t go in? What if she left Lennon by herself to fight for Oliver alone, to fight for a life she had every right to live? She thought her mother was in this together with her. 

But maybe she was in this for her happiness. Maybe her dad was genuinely the only thing that could bring her joy, even though just years before, he was the only cause for her suffering. Happiness was all she ever wanted for her mother, and a life with a man who was a poor substitute for what she really wanted would never bring her any happiness. She knew that Blake had genuinely cared about what happened to all of them. They were his girls, his reason for existing, his entire life’s work. Where the world would see her mom as just another hefty paycheck and a quick fuck, Blake saw her as a person, a woman, who, underneath all of the stars and glamour, was a woman who wanted to love and be loved like any other. She was sure Luke saw that, she just wasn’t so sure that her mother wanted to love him, or better yet, be loved by him. 

Wasn’t that a bitch? 

Did Oliver want to be loved by her?   


Lennon smiled grimly.   


It was obvious that Blake Shelton loved Gwen Stefani with an undeniable fullness of that tender-taken sentiment that Lennon had seen no other express, and she was almost inclined to believe, although reluctantly, that such a love perhaps eclipsed that of her own, and she loved Oliver deeply. What her mother shared with her father, however...  
It was something she'd never seen before until now, never really understood before until now, special in a way that novels and movies could never even dream to emulate. 

Because there he was, eyes sluggish, but unwilling to close because the woman he wanted was in his arms, even though she belonged to another. There he was, sacrificing a good night’s sleep, a nice memory of waking up next to the woman in his dreams, just so he could remember her this way, just so he wouldn’t miss a thing, no lossed breath, no flutter of an eyelash on her cheek, no purse of her lips in a dreamless sigh. For how many in Blake's position would wait for the chance of someone like Gwen Stefani walking back into his life? 

The man had incredible discipline because she knew, as soon as he and Connie divorced, that he had denied himself for years throughout his marriage, he refused to act upon his true feelings. Lennon knew that it was a sacrifice Blake had made for her mother, for Connie, for all of their children, as well as for himself.

But look where it got him. He was too late. Of that Lennon was sure of. She could tell by the worry in his eyes, the frown lines in his face, the way he held her mother like she was an endless ocean. She was so close to him and yet felt so far away. 

It scared her a little bit, like she was going to suddenly wake up one day and see Oliver’s sad story eyes and find out that he didn’t have anything left to say to her. As if she was too late, as if the way she took suddenly closed in on her because she knew it was a road she shouldn’t’ve traveled and did anyway. 

It brought her full circle. She  _ was _ like her dad. She wanted to fall in deeper. Blake wanted to swim.

He wanted to be taken out, and she wanted to be taken down. They weren’t afraid of drowning. The people they loved, they were oceans, beautiful and blue. 

The difference was…

_ God...The difference was...Oliver loved me. He loved who I was...but he didn’t love what I was...and that was simply the wrong direction. _

➣➣➣

Gwen shifted slowly, feeling warm skin pressed heavily against the side of her face. The heat was strong, and she knew instantly where she was. 

Face cuddled firmly in the crook of Blake Shelton’s neck, nose prodding slightly at the stubble littered across his sharp jawline, Gwen Stefani turned in his arms, eyes opening slightly to see a sunrise barely peeking over the hills and mountains behind the resort. 

The mother of three looked back to the man she had slept on last night, seeing his eyes already open, staring back at her. It would have unsettled her if those baby blues hadn’t been mildly sluggish, a tired look, almost as if her ex husband hadn’t slept a wink. 

The thought struck her surprisingly hard and somehow, between the tight grip his hands had on her waist and the almost faint resignation in his breath, Gwen knew he hadn’t. 

“Why didn’t you sleep?” 

The question caused him to at least blink an appearance of alertness.

But his shoulders sagged greatly when he shrugged in answer, eyes looking over her shoulder. “Wanted to remember the way you felt in my arms. Can’t do that asleep.” He said somewhat awkwardly, catching her gaze briefly, looking away half a second later. 

Gwen restrained from sighing outwardly. 

_ He spent the whole night watching me, not knowing when he’d ever get the chance to do it again.  _

His heart was unmoving as she turned her entire body to face his. 

“I can’t break it off with Luke.” She told him, like ripping off a bandaid, quick and efficient. 

_ Let me wipe my hands of this. I have to. Eventually, the blood leaking from his heart, the same blood that stains my hands right now, will wash off later, when he’s back in Nashville, and I’m in L.A. _

Blake looked away in displeasure at her harsh words. “You’re not punishing me are you?”

“Blake--” 

“For Connie? You’re not punishing me for staying with her all those years?” 

She looked at her first husband, her only husband so far, at the immaculate lines of his suit, which should be wrinkled but magically wasn’t, and at the suddenly dark blue of his eyes, belying the harsh pain of their relationship, which lurked, ready to impose on their present lives, and wished she was just punishing him. But rejecting him also hurt her. He needed to know that. 

Gwen stared up at his face, shadowed in the gloom of her choice, only illuminated by the impending sunrise. The light caught his eyes, which stared into her, seeing her but not her. Seeing a version of her that he loved and left a long time ago. 

_ Your husband is dreadfully handsome.  _

That’s how her sister-in-law had described him once. So handsome, and so very dreadful. 

Gwen removed the necklace from around her neck, placing it over his shirt, where his unmoving heart should be. She leaned into him, over the piece of jewelry, hearing his breath hitch. 

She could keep the necklace, even wear it, with Luke none the wiser. But she can’t keep wearing two futures. She can’t keep things that don’t belong to her, not anymore, and she most certainly won't allow herself to be shared by two men. 

Gwen can smell Blake this close. Where Luke’s aroma was a rich, heady mix of musk and bergamot, Blake smelled of firewood, apples, and rum. 

“What if you’re making a big mistake?” He whispered in one breath. 

Her eyes darted from his eyes to his mouth. “What if I’m not?” 

He inhaled deeply and averted his gaze. “What if you’re the one for me?” 

She shook her head forcefully. “What if I’m not?” 

“You are.”

“Then you’ll wake up one day and look over and see me. I’ll be there. But until then, I can’t be here. I have to be with Luke. I owe it to him to at least try.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to live without you again.” 

She looked up at him and, despite the suit, despite the determination still etched on his fine features, she too, at that moment, was not in the slightest, ready or prepared, no more than him, to do the same thing. “If we could make the world stop for just one moment, I’d live lifetimes with you.” 

The words had a clear effect on him. His eyes darted from her own, down to her lips and she instinctively dampened them.

“I think my world just did.” He said, not to hurt her or make her feel guilty, Gwen knew, because when he did the same thing to her all those years ago, when he broke her heart and left her to pick up the pieces, when he chose someone else, her world had stopped for several years it felt like. 

Karma was such a bitch. 

Gwen took a breath to ground herself, but all she ended up doing was breathing in the scent of him even more. A soft hand reached out to caress her cheek, to stroke a few calloused fingers through her blonde hair. 

A thumb snuck in there somewhere and split her lips from each other. The appendage tugged the bottom piece of flesh down. She released a breath of air, it fanned his skin.

_ You rob me of breath, Blake Shelton. _ From the way his eyes flashed, Gwen knew she voiced the words out loud, not meaning to, and yet, still hoping he heard all the love she couldn’t show him in those seven words. 

He sighed. “Gwen?” He murmured, his voice so low it was sent almost as a thought. 

“Yes?”

“Before you leave...will you live a couple of lifetimes with me?” He whispered, almost regretfully. 

She knew what he wanted. He wanted the earth to tilt right off its axis, and fall right in their laps, so that he could say he gave her the world. He wanted one last memory for the road, one last postcard received in the mail. 

He wanted a kiss. Something she’d been reluctant to give him ever since this thing between them started back up again. 

And because she was tired of spinning, tired of fighting, and hurting, and being without his touch, she allowed Blake’s hand to disappear to her waist, to pull her even closer, to get her to sit still for just one moment. And she allowed him to lean down, rest his head briefly against her forehead, and kiss her once on the mouth, soft, gentle and pliant.

365 days just passed them by, centuries not too far behind them, eternity racing to keep up as it tripped and fell and eventually disappeared, just like their future. 

When he pulled away, Gwen wanted to smile, because she saw them, old and grey, grandchildren running around, houses built and lived in, music created and shared, love reaching all the way up to the stars. She saw their lifetimes. 

For a moment, the world stopped, and she had lived a full life with Blake Shelton. 

Blake exhaled softly and let her go, and the fantasy went with him. 

It confused her when he moved to sit up, causing Gwen to move with him, and when he stood, haggered, tired, heartbroken, Gwen understood that even though she was the one leaving him, it would be easier if he walked away first. 

“I bought a postcard....” He didn’t turn around, and her eyes stayed glued to his back.

They weren’t absent words. He was asking if there was room in her future for him even though he couldn’t be the one to give her one. He wanted to know that if he sent a postcard, she’d be open to receiving it, that she’d be open to saving it, storing it somewhere in a box, close to her heart. He wanted to know if she still loved him even though she didn’t want him, and Gwen nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. Because even though she stopped buying and sending postcards long ago, she never stopped hoping she’d get one from him in the mail. 

He was just a couple years too late.

And wasn’t that a bitch?

  
  



End file.
